Fata Viam Invenient
by Archangela
Summary: *climax chap up!* Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger settle down for what seems to be a blissful married life, but danger lurks on the horizon, intent on shattering their dreams into pieces. Will love prevail? The fates will find a way. R&r!
1. Daily Daze

Fata Viam Invenient

AN: Hello! Here it is, the first chapter of the promised sequel to "_Only The Beginning_". Here, the plot grows, oh, so ever thicker, the characters more colorful, and the ideas wilder and wilder… hehe. 

I hope you guys enjoy, I had a hell of a time thinking this thing up. Don't forget to drop a review on your way out, okay? Mwah!

Dedicated to: CharmedHpfanatic, who helped me through this, and Catherine, her adorable little sister. Also to all who reviewed _Only The Beginning… _see, all who review will be thanked soon enough. *HINT*

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, I'm not even sure if I own Berna! (She belongs to the real Berna, who is CharmedHpfanatic.) And anything you recognize from the four books of Harry Potter, (not from my last story) belongs to the wonderful woman named J.K. Rowling. Everything else, though, including bad writing, extremely long sentences and any OOC behavior, plus the angst coming up and the plot etc… all MINE! Mwahaha!

Chapter One: Daily Daze

__

We were strangers

Starting out on a journey

Never dreaming what we'd have to go through

Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing

At the beginning with you

- At The Beginning, OST Anastasia (Disney)

***July 31, 2007***

Another day in the life of Hermione Anne Granger. Another day crossed off on the talking calendar. Another smile on the lips of her sleeping boyfriend. Another cup of coffee made. Another bout of fussing over breakfast. Another day in the life of Hermione Anne Granger.

"Good morning!" She threw back the curtains, letting the bright sunlight stream into the room. The man on the bed stretched languidly and sat up, blinking. "Put on some clothes, and get down for breakfast." Hermione laughingly threw a fuzzy blue jumper in his face. He caught it, and grabbed Hermione's wrist at the same time, pulling her down into bed with him. 

"Good morning to you, too… 'Mione." He whispered, her face cupped in his hands, and he captured her lips in a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, and was beginning to lean farther into the kiss that was making her knees weak, but then, he teasingly pulled away. 

Hermione pouted, lips bruised from the kiss. "Draco Thomas Magnum Malfoy! How dare you kiss me like that and then pull away as if nothing happened?!" Draco, who had jumped out of bed and was pulling on a pair of pants, winked at her. "Trust me, darling, it was hard."

A few minutes later, it was just another breakfast for the pretty couple. Hermione was browsing the paper while Draco drank coffee and ate the scrambled eggs. 

"Draco?"

"Mm-hm?"

"It's Harry's birthday today."

"Oh."

"It's _Harry's _birthday today."

"_Oh."_

Hermione looked over the top of the paper and raised an eyebrow at Draco, who was eating his breakfast so neatly it seemed impossible. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Yes, I know. What's his plans?" Hermione put the paper down and shrugged, looking through the morning mail. "He didn't say anything." Draco tapped his mug of coffee with his wand, and the mug drained and refilled again with another, darker kind of coffee. "Well, Hermione, ask him later, during your classes." 

Hermione frowned at her mug… "Yes, later, during classes."

"Classes" was what Draco called the Auror training Hermione was undergoing. It was rigorous work, and sometimes, Hermione came home with an injury or two. "Don't worry…" she once told Draco through a throat choked with pained tears. "It's nothing I can't handle." 

Harry and Ginny were taking the Auror training alongside Hermione, and, as they reported to a worried Draco, Hermione was sending the rest of the trainees home in pieces, while she gets away with a bruise or two. 

Ron was in Australia with Parvati. According to their letters, they were living with Parvati's mother, and they were madly in love. (Meaning Ron and Parvati, of course.)

The Weasley twins were currently on a trip around the world, expanding their wildly successful line of joke shops. This was what had partly funded Ron and Parvati's trip to Australia, and Ron's admirable position as a Defender in the Ministry of Magic helped as well.

Harry and Berna were living together in an apartment not far from Hermione's own, and they were doing very well, from what Hermione had last heard. 

As for Draco's side of the world, his father had already been declared officially deceased by the Ministry of Magic, but he seemed to take it quite well, though having the occasional bout of depression. Narcissa Malfoy, however, was an entirely different story. 

Draco still had a soft spot for his mother, who kept herself locked up in the stately Malfoy Manor, never venturing out for any event. Even Draco's own birthday was ignored, marked only by a cold, formal letter from Anton, the Malfoy Secretary, wishing him a "pleasant yearly occurance."

"She's still mourning, you know." Draco pointed out to Hermione.

For now, we can leave the rest of the world behind, and sit down at the breakfast table with Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

"Look, Fleur Delacour got married!" Hermione dropped her knife in surprise. Draco, looking rather affected, reached for the paper. "Hmm, lucky fellow, this Pierre…" Hermione laughed at the bland expression on Draco's face. "Isn't that just like her, to have her wedding announcement splashed all over the news, even in foreign countries!" 

Draco watched the Fleur in the picture smile and cuddle up to the arm of the tall, handsome Frenchman. He held a strangely somber expression. Then he looked up at Hermione, who was happily spreading jam on her toast. 

"Do you want to get married?"

Hermione dropped her knife again. "What?" Even Draco looked surprised with himself. "No, no… what I meant was… no, I…" He shrugged it off.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Was that a proposal?" Draco looked aghast. "No… NO! I just… meant…" he looked down at the coffee he had ordered from Spain, swirling around in his cup. 

"I meant… are you happy like this?"

"Like what?"

"You know, just… living together."

"I guess."

"Could you please elaborate?"

"Well, I don't think I'm ready for the commitment of marriage, and as we are too immature…"

"Excuse me, sweetie. I believe I'm mature enough."

"Is that another proposal?"

"No!"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I've got to go get ready for class."

"Okay."

"Yes…"

~*~

Hermione watched Ginny's face wrinkle up in concentration. Beside her, she could hear Harry's breathing grow uneven, and the unmistakable sound of his glasses cracking once more. "Shit." She heard him swear. She could feel her own sweat trickling slowly down her cheek. The buzz of the electrical Facing-Off Charms echoed around the large gym, along with the shouting of their trainer. "Hold! Hold that! Concentrate!"

Finally. "Withdraw!"

All around the room, the sound of bodies collapsing onto the padded floor could be heard. Heavy breathing, sighs and groans as muscles were stretched. Angry curses from the ones who had failed to sustain the difficult charm.

The misshapen figure strode into the middle of the room, clapping his rough, thick hands together for attention.

Even at his age, Mad-Eye Moody still imposed authority, and this moment was one of no exception. The people lying on the ground immediately snapped to attention, standing up gingerly. He pointed to the wall silently, and the trainees immediately dashed over to it and lined up according to number. Hermione found herself squeezed between Harry and a tall red-head that painfully reminded her of Ron.

Mad-Eye walked up the line, pausing to talk to a trainee every now and then. Some he passed without a word, others he nodded at, some he spoke to gruffly.

"Muld, pay attention!"

"Paige, concentrate, CONCENTRATE!"

"You, Anderson, check the way you grip your wand."

"Next time, Potter, you might want to consider reinforcing your glasses with a _Rigidus _charm.

Keep it up, though."

Beside her, Hermione could actually _feel_ Harry smiling. "Keep it up." was extremely extravagant praise from Alastor. Suddenly, he stopped right in front of her. 

His real eye was fixed on his list of trainees, but Hermione was positive that the magical one was looking at her through the side of his head.

"Very good work, Granger. Very. Good. Work."

She beamed.

~*~

"I can't stand these Facing-Off Charms!" Ginny burst out, throwing her towel to the ground. Hermione patted her on the back. "It's okay, it's really hard to get used to." She held out her hand to Harry. "Give me your glasses, I'll fix the crack." Harry grinned and held up the repaired glasses. "Nah, it's okay. Berna fixed them for me." "Oh."

Hermione dropped her hand and took a sip out of the bottle of Power-up Potion. ("Madame Pomfrey's Delicious Popberry Flavor!" it said on the side on the brightly-colored bottle.) Hermione felt a bit morose… was it because _she _was the one who _always _fixed Harry's glasses for him?

She shook the feeling of shallow jealousy off and stood up, and found herself face to face with Berna herself. 

She looked impeccable in a light green sundress and a pretty clip holding her long hair back, and the blue eyes that surveyed Hermione from head to toe were as bright and as innocent as ever. Hermione suddenly felt _very _aware that she was dressed in old sweatpants and a baggy shirt, and that she was drenched in sweat.

"Hello, Hermione."

"Oh, hello Berna! What brings you here?"

"Harry, of course."

"I see."

Ginny was smiling at Berna, but Berna made no move to take notice of her, until Ginny said, in a very loud voice. "Hi Berna!" 

"Hello, Ginny."

"How's May Lopez?"

"I lost contact with her a few months ago."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence, which Harry waved away by coming up to Berna and taking her hand in his. Berna smiled up at him, and he smiled back down through his unmarred glasses. Hermione turned away, taking another sip from the bottle, when she saw someone that made her sinking heart jump back up, and her smile return to her face.

Draco Malfoy sauntered through the door of the gym like he owned the place. (And if he wanted to, he probably would.) Hermione rushed over to him, and he caught her in his arms, a faint grin on his face. "You look even more impeccable that Berna." Hermione whispered into the expensive fabric of his shirt. "Oh, she's here?" Draco put his arm protectively around her and walked her back to the bench, where Harry was talking to Berna, and Ginny was discreetly rolling her eyes at both of them. 

Ginny looked up. "Draco!" 

"Hey, pretty woman." came the cool reply.

Harry looked up. "Hello, Draco." Draco grinned casually and sat down on the bench beside him, and only Draco Malfoy could make a gym bench look like a throne fit for a king. "Hey, Potter. Happy birthday." Draco turned to Berna and made a mock bow. "Good afternoon, lady love." Berna drew away slightly, and ignored him. Harry poked Draco with his wand. "She's _my _lady love, so keep your paws away from her." Draco held up his elegant hands. "Paws? My man, I am quite insulted." Harry nodded, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose. "Good."

The training resumed, with Berna and Draco as audience. Moody gave them no attention, but Draco flinched vaguely everytime he passed. ("The ferret thing left him in a trauma. He wouldn't go near Pansy's pet hamster for weeks, and he finally lost it and Transfigured it into a beanbag." Hermione whispered to Ginny.) 

They began on Confundus Charms and blocking, and around thirty minutes later, everyone was staggering around in a bewildered daze. Ginny stumbled into Hermione, and Harry took them both and dragged them to the bench where Draco and Berna were sitting, very far apart from each other. Moody came over, looking irate that his trainees were so easily Confunded. 

"You!" He barked roughly at Draco, and Draco jumped slightly. "Y-yes?" "Help them get their senses back. You help." He nodded towards Berna, who, looking appalled, pulled Harry to sit on the bench, and began talking to him in a low voice. 

Draco brushed Hermione's hair back gently from her face and looked deep into her eyes. She smiled at him. "No… I'm not that Confunded. Thanks, though."

"Harry, it's me, Berna… Berna!" Berna shook Harry ever so slightly, knocking his glasses askew. Harry grinned benignly up at her. "Who? I don't believe I know anyone named Ber-" 

Berna threw her hands up in exasperation and simply took Harry's face in her hands and kissed him like the world was ending. 

Draco, Hermione and Ginny watched, slack-jawed. Hermione heard Ginny mumble something that sounded like "Are they still breathing?".

Harry, seemingly coming to his senses, pushed Berna away and straightened up, clucthing his glasses. "Okay… okay… I'm fine." Berna took off her hat and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, smiling at Harry. "You kiss well even if you're Confunded."

Harry blushed.

~*~

Lunch began as a breezy affair, with the five of them going out to Horizont Alley's best eating joint, the one Ron fondly called "My Territory."

"I personally think we should go eat somewhere else." Draco stood outside the restaurant, hands in pockets, and looking distrustfully up at the battered sign that proclaimed in loud, flashing letters "Best Trash Around!" Draco looked at Harry. "I said, I think we should eat somewhere else." He smiled at Hermione. "If you want, I could bring you all over to Malfoy Manor and - "

"Yes!" Hermione glanced around expectantly.

"Why not?" Ginny shrugged.

"No…" Harry looked longingly at the flashing sign.

"No, absolutely not." Berna sounded rather huffy.

Draco looked hurt.

~*~

"I still don't see why they advertise their garbage cans and what can be found inside them, but this is rather good apple pie a la mode..." Draco looked down at the still warm slice of pie, and speared a thin, cinnamon-covered piece of fresh apple which was resting on a scoop on vanilla icecream which was charmed to melt to a certain degree, not more, not less. Harry, who was sitting beside Berna, was watching Draco with a funny expression in his glittering eyes. Berna was watching Harry watch Draco. Hermione was watching the way her milkshake kept changing colors. 

And Ginny, who was watching everybody, noticed that the glitter in Harry's eyes seemed to flicker whenever Draco touched Hermione's hand, or even when Draco spoke to Hermione in a whisper. 

Right after they finished the last slices of pie, and after their forks had sung a little ditty to them, Harry took Hermione aside. 

"'Mione, I just want to know… I hope you don't take it too personally." Harry began to speak in a very low whisper, and Hermione bent closer to hear whatever he had to say. "Fire away, Harry. After all, we _are _best friends." 

Harry glanced over his shoulder, and began to speak again, very fast and very low.

"I know that you're a bit sensitive, and this is a pretty personal question, and you don't like being asked personal questions…" 

Hermione sighed. "Just get to the point, Harry."

"Do you really love him?"

Hermione was surprised. She had expected something a bit shallower, a bit less personal, but this was Harry James Potter, and you never know…

"Wh- what?!"

Harry waved his hand in Draco's general direction. "Do you? I mean, you live together, and probably sleep together…" That was a wrong move.

Hermione stood up, fuming. "Oh, that's it, right?" Harry looked up at her, aware that he shouldn't have said _sleep. _"Er… well, Hermione… don't make a fuss, come on…" Hermione glared at him. "Harold James Potter, is this going to escalate into another 'Do you love me?' conversation? I sorely hope not, because I'm tired of those, and those kinds of conversations leave me with my heart in pieces and my brain in a terrible feeling of self-doubt and guilt."

Harry was taken aback. Hermione continued her spiel, unaware of the people staring at them. "Harry, if you wanted to know, we're friends, nothing more, and nothing less. You're very important to me, and I love you… but not the same way I love _him._" She pointed at Draco, her eyes still on Harry's bewildered face. Draco looked up with an expression that calmly said "_Here she goes again." _Ginny was staring, and Berna looked ticked off. 

"So, Harry, in case you were wondering, well, I love him, and we sleep together every now and then, but I love you, too, in an entirely different way, but if I could, and if I wanted to, I would probably sleep with you! Are your severely contagious feelings of platonic jealousy and self-guilt assuaged, or do I have to make more public confession in crowded restaurants?" Hermione's voice cracked, and before the surprised diners could swallow their mouthfuls of baked potato, she had run out of the restaurant with her hands over her face.

Draco threw down his napkin and stood up, walking to the door with calm, measured strides. Harry did the same, but instead of walking coolly, he rushed like hell. Ginny, who got over the incident in an instance in the face of a financial problem, stared down at her plate. "Oh no… they didn't pay for the meal, yet… and I didn't bring any money." Berna raised an eyebrow and pushed aside Draco's napkin, revealing a small pile of gold and silver. "Well, well, well… looks like the aristocratic snoot threw down a fair number of Galleons along with his napkin." 

Ginny's eyes widened.

~*~

"Hermione… please, listen to me…" Harry caught up with her in front of Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Harry touched her hand gently, but Hermione jerked away, tears in her eyes. "Yes, you did! What is this? Another confrontation, where you declare your love for me? Harry, please! I have had enough of this! Can't we just be friends, because I can't live with your confessions of love… I love you, Harry, but not the same way I love Draco, nor the same way he loves me. Can't… we just- be friends?" Hermione began to sob, her shoulders shaking. 

Harry watched her cry with strangely bright eyes. "Are you so sure about that? That he loves you the way you love him?" Hermione looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "Stop it! Stop it, already! You've been doing this since seventh year, damnit! Stop questioning me! Stop asking me to evaluate my whole life, and stop making me doubt myself and everyone I love!" Her face contorted in anger, and she began to scream. "What are you doing to me, and everytime you get emotional, I end up in pieces, doubting myself and the whole world! Please, Harry…" she broke down. "If you really love me the way you tell me you do, please stop doing this to me, and go love someone who _can _and _will _love you back… like Berna, for instance." 

She stared up at him through teary eyes. "I can't love you back, Harry… and you know that. But if you keep doing this, if you continue this emotional game, I _will _love you, and that will end in a breaking of hearts, yours, mine, Berna's, Draco's… just learn to accept him for what he is, and what he does… and what that is, _he loves me_. And… oh god, Harry… I'm _so _sorry this had to happen on your birthday."

Harry stood there for what seemed a lifetime, watching the woman he loved cry out to him. Finally, silently, sadly, he put his arms around her one last time. "It's okay. I'll stop… if that's what makes you happy." He whispered into her ear, as her whole body shook with sobs. "But, Hermione…" he said, straightening up. "Feelings left unspoken still exist, though they are left undeclared." He looked away, and his eye fell upon Draco, who was advancing towards him menacingly. 

"Hello, Draco. Apologies granted." And with that, Harry Potter strode away.

~*~

That night, Hermione lay in bed beside Draco, who seemed asleep. Hermione, however was wide awake. She rolled over in bed, facing Draco. His eyes were closed, and his breathing deep and even. Hermione lost herself in thought… _What if it was Harry lying here instead of Draco… _

Hermione's eyes flew open, and she suddenly got out of bed. Clutching her robe around her, she walked through the neat apartment to her desk. She lit a candle, and pulled her quill and parchment out of her drawer. Dipping the quill in ink, she began to write.

__

Dear Ron, (July 31, 2007)

Hello, and regards to Parvati and her mother. Have you seen the Sydney Opera House yet… and did you know that that wonderful structure holds a great number of Sounding Charms to keep the audience happy, Muggle or not? 

Anyway, the Sydney Opera House wasn't what I wrote this letter for.

It's about Harry.

Ron, what's wrong with him lately? Don't tell me you don't know, because you've complained about his lack of letters to you. He's been awfully off-base lately, and he didn't' even do anything about his birthday today.

And he keeps… telling me things. How he's always loved me, and how he'll always love me. It's not platonic love anymore, Ron. It's the kind of love that goes between you and Parvati, the kind of love between Draco and I. 

That's another problem… Draco. He hasn't been acting strange like Harry, but I'm worried about him. His mother's been mourning for the past few years, _and he hasn't shed a tear over his father's empty grave at all. And, there's the Harry-Draco problem. I'm pretty sure Draco knows about Harry's loving me, and he's simply letting it all go on. He trusts me so much…_

Ron, sorry for burdening you, but I need help, and you know Harry best. 

Thanks so much! Take care!

Love,

Hermione.

Hermione dried the ink with a quick Drying Spell, and rolled it up into a neat package. She laid it on her desk to send off in he morning, when her owl, Crookshanks, would return from night hunting. (AN: That's an owl. She just named it after her late, beloved Kneazle, the original Crookshanks.)

__

That's done… she thought, and she crawled back into bed. To her surprise, Draco was awake.

He looked at her with those sleepy, blue-silver eyes. "It was cold without you." She smiled at him. "It's going to get warmer now." Draco smiled back, and putting his arms around her waist, drew her down to him. "Good."

~*~


	2. When the Wind Is Still

AN: The clock on the wall reads "2 a.m." One lone figure sits at the dark desk, the only light coming from the computer screen. Typing sounds could be heard. Something snaps somewhere in the dark house. The figure jumps, apprehensively looking around. Nothing. Continues typing.

*scene break* Now the clock reads "9 a.m.". The house is bright and filled with sunshine and noise. But the figure still types on, a mug of hot, steaming coffee beside her. Finally… "OHMYGOD! I FINSIHED THE DAMN THING!"rings out through the house, startling children and small animals. The happy figure clicks on an icon on her Desktop, and the familiar sounds of logging on to the Net can be heard. Suddenly, a box pops up on her screen, and the message causes the girl to shriek with anger and pitiful despair. It seems Archangela's prepaid Internet account has run dry.

Okay, so if you really want to keep your nose hair unharmed, REVIEW!

Disclaimer: All things bright and beautiful and recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling, who is worthy of all our praise. All creatures great and small… (no, wait, wrong!) Anything you don't think was originally in the HP books most probably belongs to me. Including OOC behavior, and any other mistakes. (I changed Hermione's birthday for a reason, okay?!)

Dedications: To CharmedHpfanatic, take care out there! Sum41, the wonderfully hyperactive Canadian band that probably won't read this but I still want to acknowledge because 'twas their new album that inspired me to write this chap, and to _Japorms Pogi, _the terrifically wonked-out clique of which I am the Glamorous Founder!

Chapter Two: When The Wind Is Still

__

When he reached Medea, 

it seemed as if her heart left her to go to him, 

and a dark mist clouded her eyes 

and she had no strength to move. 

The two stood still, face to face, 

as lofty pine trees when the wind is still. 

Then again when the wind stirs they murmur, 

so these two also, stirred by the breath of love, 

were fated to tell out all their tales to each other.

- Greek Mythology, Quest Of The Golden Fleece

***June 15, 2007***

"Penny for your thoughts, Draco." Hermione tossed a wet dishtowel at her boyfriend, who, at that moment, was staring out the window of their cozy apartment in Godric's Hollow. Draco blinked incredulously at her. "Okay, where's the penny?" Hermione laughed. "Oh, tell me for free. Malfoys are too rich to care about pennies." Draco shook his head teasingly. "Nope. Not when it's our thoughts we're selling." Hermione reached across the table to swat him. "Oh come on!"

Draco smiled at her, catching her hand in his. "Tell me, would you like me to propose to you?"

~*~

"And then he asked me if I wanted him to propose to me! I mean, this is so… unusual!" Hermione frowned at the smoky Parvati figure standing in her room. The Parvati Com replied, it's translucent lips moving along with the words that drifted through the room. "Draco's unusual, Hermione… but he also has this uncanny ability to know exactly what a woman wants. So, if he's ever going to propose to you, I'll bet my wand that you wont' be disappointed at all."

Hermione looked out her window, losing herself in thoughts of the past. "When I was a child… I'd entertain dreams and hopes… flights of fancy, you might say. I'd grow up, meet a wonderfully charming and handsome man… who'd love me with all his heart, then he'd propose to me in a whirl of romance, and we'd live a life full of bliss and happiness…" She turned back to the Parvati Com, which was examining her nails. "Was that incredibly stupid?"

"Parvati" clucked. "No! You've got two down, two to go…" Hermione sat down on her bed and waved a hand in the direction of her desk. "I wrote all of my 'pipe dreams' down once… maybe they're still there." The Parvati Com smiled at her, and Hermione stared at the ring on the translucent hand. "Wait a minute… Ron proposed to you already?!"

The Parvati laughed. "I was wondering when you'd notice!" Hermione squealed happily. "Oh! How did he?" Parvati Com rolled her beautiful brown eyes. "Typically Ron. We were in the outback, beside some Murray River… then he secretly hypnotized a crocodile to sneak up behind me. When I screamed, the crocodile opened its tremendous jaws, and the ring rolled out. He proposed to me right then and there, beside the silent crocodile." 

Hermione smiled wistfully. "Sounds exactly like Ron… I'd prefer a romantic proposal, but a funny one wouldn't be so bad." She shrugged at the Parvati Com. "But I doubt if Draco would do that." The Parvati Com looked over her shoulder at someone Hermione couldn't see. 

"Yes, Mummy. _Another _one?! The Persian one, you say? No, no, I'll handle it. Don't touch the Harry, he'll get mad…" The Parvati Com glanced back at Hermione and smiled apologetically. "Sorry darling. Ron broke another one of Mummy's prized vases with his antique Mini-Harry. I've got to go and stop Mummy from cursing Ronniekins with another one of her special Sound Spells. I can't stand it when Ron makes the floorboards creak with one touch! Goodbye, sweetie!"

Hermione waved goodbye as the Com faded away. She then sighed and turned away from the window. "Propose to me? What am I supposed to do?" She sat down at her desk and pulled out a little black book and her quill. "What did I start writing a journal for, then?" 

***June 18, 2007***

_"Poliar Flipinde!"_

"Contradictum!"

"_Tarantellegra!"_

"Contra- ohmygod! Stop it!"

Again, the gym was filled with noise. Shouts of the incantation for the Contradict Spell, which they were practicing that day. Ricochets when hexes bounced off the walls. ("Duck, Weasley! Watch out for that Confun- augh!") Curses when curses weren't properly Contradicted. ("Damnit! Get me down from here! And go pick up my nose!") And the booming instructions of Moody, who was presiding over it all. ("Poter! Watch it! Ha, that's got to look ugly!")

Again, the long-awaited "Withdraw!"

In the line-up, Hermione couldn't help but gasp when she saw Harry. 

"Ohmygod! Harry, your skin…"

"What? Leave it."

Hermione shrunk away from Harry, partly because he was never the same after the "incident", and partly because his skin, after being hit with the _Reptilius _Hex, was disgustingly green and mottled. 

"Harry, if you just let me-"

"I said, leave it."

"Fine!"

Moody walked down the line, shouting out remarks.

"You keep on forgetting your incantations, and see if you last three minutes on the battlefield!"

"It's _Misodrety, _NOT _Misidreti! _Do you really want pink body hair?!"

"Good work, Potter. Get on over to the nurse to get rid of that. Unless you want to keep on looking like my pet iguanadon."

Hermione looked up expectantly when Moody paused in front of her. Without blinking, he growled "What are you doing for your birthday? I expect a piece of the cake, mind you, or I'll hex you to Hades." Hermione blinked. "Ye- yes sir…" Moody chuckled strangely. "Good."

~*~

Draco walked leisurely up the stairs to their room, sipping his coffee. He stopped in front of Hermione's desk, staring down at the intriguing diary. "Well, well, well…" He reached out a hand to pick it up, then very promptly, dropped it again, accompanied with a well-placed curse. 

"Ouch." He glared contemptuously down at the innocent book, now lying on the floor. "I should have known she'd protect it… I just didn't think she'd use an Electrify Charm." Draco shook his head, smiling, and knelt down on the floor beside the book. "Clever girl."

~*~

"Harry, did you hear? Ron and Parvati are engaged!" Hermione tried to engage Harry in conversation for one last time, and this worked. Harry looked up, a mix of surprise and withheld happiness in his face. "Really?" Hermione sighed with relief. _Thank God he isn't ignoring me anymore… _"Yes, Parvati told me a few days ago. Isn't this just adorable?" Harry grinned. "No, considering Ron, it's a wonder Parvati and her mum haven't gone mad already."

"Hey! I've lived with Ron for the past twenty or so years, and I haven't gone mad… I think." Ginny came up behind them, laughing. Hermione smiled at her. Ginny grinned back, sweeping her riot of red curls up into a messy ponytail. "So, Hermione… what will you be doing for your twenty-third birthday, then?" 

Harry stared at Hermione. "Oh god… I almost forgot again!" Hermione glared at him. "You did?! Why you-" Harry raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "Actually, no. I didn't forget. I _couldn't _forget, what with the little Draco thing back in seventh year…" 

"So… against Berna's wishes, I got you… _this." _Harry held out his hand. He was holding a picture frame. Hermione took it from him, a puzzled expression on her face. "I didn't get to wrap it, sorry…" When Hermione turned over the frame, her face lit up, and she jumped up, smiling for all the world. 

"Harry, it's _wonderful!" _

Harry blushed slightly. "You think so? Berna thought otherwise…" Hermione glanced up at him questioningly, but as if she was called, Berna suddenly strolled into the gym, turning heads left and right, especially Harry's. 

She walked over to Harry, Hermione and Ginny, and took Harry's arm possessively, sky-blue eyes on the picture in Hermione's hands. "Hello, Harry dear." She tugged him to her level for a kiss, then she nodded coolly at Hermione and Ginny. "Hermione. Virginia."

~*~

"Okay, I can't risk getting my fingers burned again…" Draco stared down at the black book, lying innocuously on the carpet. Draco took another sip of his coffee. "What's the password, damnit…" He childishly stuck out his tongue at the book. "You think you're so damn smart-" He broke off. _Damn smart… _

Draco suddenly stood up, spilling coffee on the rug. "I got it!" He rushed to the massive bookcase and began scanning the titles, pulling down various books form the shelf and reading the title page, only to throw it back onto the floor.

~*~

"Good afternoon, Berna!" Hermione smiled warmly. Berna simply nodded again. Behind Hermione, Ginny gave a little huff of annoyance. Berna glanced back at the picture frame. "Harry dear, I told you not to give her that anymore…" She turned to Hermione, eyes still cold. "I suggested this rather pretty necklace from Bauble Boudoir, but he said no. He said it was too expensive, something or another, and he said that you already had _Draco _to give you jewelry." 

Hermione stared at her, astonished. Did she mean to make Harry sound like he didn't care about Hermione anymore, or was she simply tactless? Berna suddenly smiled, and Hermione was even more surprised at how pretty she really was. "So, he gave you that instead. If you want, I can take you over to Bauble Boudoir someday, and you can pick out your own birthday gift."

"It's okay, Berna. Hermione can pick her own jewelry. And she's got _Draco _to help her, so we don't really need your help…" Ginny began, but Hermione cut her off. "No, no, it's okay. Thanks Berna, that's kind of you." Berna smiled again, touched Harry's arm, and walked away.

Harry looked back to Hermione, red in the face. "Hermione, I'm so sorry… I just thought that the picture might…" Hermione smiled at him. "I love this gift. It means more to me than any ring, necklace, or bangle you might have given me. Thanks, Harry." She stood on her tiptoes, the frame in her hand, and kissed him on the cheek. 

Harry smiled back weakly. "Okay… you're welcome. Happy birthday, Hermione." He turned to Ginny. "Moody's calling us back, lets go."

Hermione set the frame down carefully on the bench, whispering a quick Unbreakable Charm. As she ran off, one could see the picture clearly. It was of two teenagers in black Hogwarts robes, out on the sunny grounds. The boy with the scar and messy hair had a laughing Hermione by the hands, and they were twirling around blissfully. The moving picture conveyed the perfect meaning of friendship, and as Hermione began to set up her body shields, she glanced back to the picture and wondered _We were the perfect group of friends… are we still?_

~*~

"Found it!" Draco sat down beside the diary on the floor, clutching another, dustier and heavier book in his hands. The title read, in slightly faded red and gold letters: _The Diary of Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Headmistress. _Draco chuckled softly. "Should have thought of this earlier. I mean, she _is _Hermione's idol."

He opened it to the first page, and scanned it quickly. 

__

The Diary of Minerva McGonagall

by Minerva McGonagall

Foreword by: Albus Dumbledore

Second Foreword by: Hermione Anne Granger

*Long you live and high you fly, and smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry, 

and all you touch and all you'll see is all your life will ever be.*

Draco reread the last line. "Got it." Glancing at the small book on the floor, he read the line out loud. The book on the floor shuddered, and then fell open to its last entry. 

Draco put down the heavy tome and picked up Hermione's diary. "She'll forgive me." He glanced out the window, then up at the clock, talking quietly to himself. "Draco, you know what to say to make a woman melt into your arms. You know exactly what to do to get some pretty woman into bed with you. But you have absolutely no bloody idea what to do about proposing to Hermione." He looked down at the neatly written lines. "Just goes to show she's the best witch you've ever met."

He flipped a page or two. "I hope this helps… I want nothing more than her happiness, so what's the best way to ask for her hand in marriage?" He snorted. "Lame excuse to go flipping through her diary, then."

~*~

"Draco?" Hermione pushed open the door, tucking a small gold key with a red ribbon wrapped around it back into her pocket. She walked through the quiet house, touching the matching key on the mantel, but it was silver, with a green ribbon. "Draco? Where are you?"

Up the stairs, past the framed pictures on the table. Hermione smiled and added Harry's birthday gift to that. She opened the door to their bedroom, and frowned.

Draco lay on the bed, fast asleep, the covers wrapped around him. Books were scattered all over the floor, and her own diary lay on the ground, locked tight. Hermione glanced at it suspiciously, then she looked back at the sleeping Draco, and the wary look on her face faded away.

Moving quietly, she waved her wand at the books, Restoring them back to their shelves with a Silenced charm. She sat down on the bed, eyes dancing. 

"Hey, Draco?"

"Mm-fm…"

"Draco…" Her hand moved slowly under the covers.

"Mm…"

"Draco." Closer moved her hand.

"Mm… ohmygod! Hermione!"

~*~

***June 21, 2007***

"Well, that was rather satisfactory." Draco's tone of voice was humorously dry. Hermione laughed, and waved Harry and Berna out the door. "Goodbye! Thanks for coming!" Draco flicked his wand, and the door swung shut, but not before Harry had time to yell "Happy birthday, 'Mione!" over his shoulder.

"So, what now, blond cow?" Hermione collapsed onto a chair, staring at the birthday mess on the floor. Draco's silvery-grey eyes traveled from the spills on the carpet to the pile of wrapping paper in the corner. "First of all, I am no cow. Second, I'd much rather take a nice, cool walk through Godric's Hollow than clean up this… *ahem* _farrago…" _Hermione laughed. "Sounds good to me."

~*~

They had no need of coats as they walked down the cobbled street, because it was a warm, June night, with the occasional cool breeze. They had no need of conversation, for they perfectly understood each other without spoken words. And they had no need of company, for they had each other, and that was enough.

But when conversation seemed required, it was comfortably friendly and smooth.

"Hermione, if someone was to propose to you, how would you-"

"Draco, please don't start that again."

"As long as you're with me, I could live without saying anything."

They continued to walk along the banks of the peaceful lake. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of the night along with gentle fingers. Draco suddenly stopped, and pulled Hermione closer to him, as they looked out over the lake and began to count the stars above them.

"It's a beautiful night, don't you think?" Hermione smiled softly up at Draco. He touched her lips gently, his lips curving slightly upward. "You're more beautiful to me. Your eyes shine far more than the brightest star, and the glow on your face surpasses the moon's." He broke off, laughing. 

"Oh, god, isn't that just about the stupidest thing you've ever heard?" Hermione laughed with him. "No, it was pretty good." Draco grinned. "Ah, I just love making cheesy poetry up. It's my way of expressing myself when the most beautiful woman in the world has left me dumbstruck." 

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him gently, murmuring, "I know you can do much better..." Draco took her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his. When they pulled apart, Draco wrapped his arms around her neck, nestling his chin in her soft hair. "How's this_? 'When he reached Medea, it seemed as if her heart left her to go to him, and a dark mist clouded her eyes and she had no strength to move. The two stood still, face to face, as lofty pine trees when the wind is still. Then again when the wind stirs they murmur, so these two also, stirred by the breath of love, were fated to tell out all their tales to each other_.'" 

Hermione looked up at him, eyes shining. "That was beautiful! What was that?" Draco grinned, the faintest tinge of pink in his cheeks. "Muggle literature. It's from the Greek myth, The Quest for the Golden Fleece. Hermione, your ancestors wrote some pretty weird stuff." She ran her fingers through his silky hair, and his eyes closed. "I take that as a compliment."

"You once told me you're a romantic. That was the night I drew you a two-hour bath and scattered rose petals on our bed… only to find out that the water was too cold and that roses make my eyes itch…" Hermione giggled. "So, tell me, Hermione… are you still a romantic?" Draco whispered into her ear. 

Hermione smiled, looking up at the stars. "You could say that. Why?" Draco pulled out his wand and smiled softly. "_Faerie Amoristo_" he intoned, and a thousand glittering faires suddenly appeared in a cloud around him. He flicked his wand and said again "_Faerie Ledina_." The tiny, multi-colored spots of light swirled arund them in a dazzling array, throwing shimmers of light onto Hermione's surprised face. 

Draco moved closer to where she stood, taking her in his arms. "If someone were to propose to you, how would you like him to do it?" he said, his face inches from her own. Hermione looked up at him, and her eyes were bright. "I have always dreamed that the perfect man would propose to me under a full moon, beside a shining lake, and a thousand shimmering multi-colored diamonds scattered around us…" She touched Draco's cheek. "I wanted to be carried off in a whirl of romance and fairy lights… Draco, this is so… _perfect." _Draco smiled to himself.

They broke apart, and the fairy light dimmed slightly, and Hermione could now see the moon, resplendent over the lake. She whirled around, and the fairies followed her, creating a splendid helix of luminescent beauty. Draco watched her, then moving quickly, whispered a special charm.

Something – a shining something that held a powerful blessing – floated towards Hermione, and as it drew closer, she reached out, wondering, and it dropped onto her palm. 

Draco walked nearer, a smile playing upon his dawn-tinted lips. He reached out and pulled her nearer to him. "A man gives a woman a bottomless gift, to put flesh, blood and bone into. She is so overjoyed she can't speak… what was it?"

Hermione was silent. Then she held up the shining circlet of silver, her eyes just as bright. "It was an engagement ring." Draco nodded, touching his lips ton her forehead. "Smart girl."

Then a silence. A silence unbroken by the hushed tones of the crickets. Unbroken by the gentle hum of fairy wings. Undistracted by the splendid play of pastel lights. 

A split second. A time for tears and laughter, for joy and pain, for hearts to touch, for hearts to rejoice.

One beautiful night. One love-struck man. One overjoyed woman. One question. One answer. One heart.

"Draco..."

"Please, Hermione."

__

*Please...*

"Yes."

And he took her in his arms, amid the shining of a thousand fairies, beside the moonlit lake, beneath a million stars, each a reason for why he loved her, and why she loved him back.


	3. Letters Of A Surprise

AN: Boo! Didja miss me?! *looks around* Guess not. :( 

Anyway, here's the third chappy of Phoebe! Apologies for the late uploading, I haven't had much time to write… what with acting classes, cousins sleeping over *AUGH! Stop looking over my shoulder! Shoo, shoo!!!* parents harping on me to 'get a life', Internet cards running dry… trying to learn HTML for my new weblog… _and _my new summer infatuation.

The life of Me is simply too… *dramatic sigh*

Disclaimer: I don't own anything familiar to anyone who's read all four Harry Potter books. However, I own everything that's _un_familiar to anyone who hasn't read any of my fan/songfics. 

Dedicated to: Of course, as always to CharmedHpfanatic, who will be seeing me next year in school! Whee! And to Katana47, my faithful reviewer. Your reviews rock! 

Chapter Three: Letters of A Surprise

__

What's the buzz?

Tell me what's a-happening.

What's the fuss?

Tell me what's a-happening…

- Jesus Christ Superstar

The man at the desk raised his head of bright red hair at the beeping sound which announced the otherwise silent arrival of a dragon through his office door.

"Damn it, Malfoy! What are you doing here?!"

Draco walked smoothly over to Ron Weasley, stopped in front of his desk, and slid a finger teasingly across the gold plaque which proclaimed the carrot-head as "Magical Discussant and Debater". 

"Very nice office, Weasley. Terrifically surprised that they even let you walk over the rug in those shoes. Don't they leave marks on the floor yet?" Draco smirked, reminding Ron of their old school days. 

Ron glanced down at his old loafers and blushed. "Oh, shut up, Malfoy, or I'll have my personal bodyguards make sure you won't be able to chew your food properly for the next few months."

Draco stepped back, feigning surprise. "Weasley! You have bodyguards?! What for? I mean, no one's about to rob you or anything, they'll be walking away empty-handed…"

Ron stood up, all six feet, seven inches of him. "Malfoy…" 

Draco laughed and held up his hands. "Yes, yes, Ron. No need to get all… _tall _with me." He glanced around the office, slightly admiringly. "I agree with the Chudley Cannons poster, but does it have to be over there? Why not beside the orange vase? It'll add a bit of color, and it _does _tone down into a single eye focus… but you'll have to replace those roses with… something dark…" 

Ron slammed his book (_How To Convince The Nice Men In White To Let You Out Of The Uncomfortable Out-Of-Fashion Tight White Jacket With Extra-Long Arms by Angela Ikari Felton._) down on the desk. "Malfoy, did you come over here, all the way to Australia, simply to teach me home-decorating tips, or did you actually have something else to say besides an insults or an avoidance comment?!" 

Draco glanced at him. "Oh, yes. Come to think of it… I believe Hermione asked me to drop _this _off." He casually tossed a pure white envelope on the polished desk, and stepped back. "Don't' forget to pull up your jaw when you've finished reading it."

A small *pop* announced Draco's departure. 

Ron rolled his blue eyes and reached for the envelope. "What the hell…"

It slid open by itself, and a heavy cream sheet of parchment fell out. As Ron picked it up, silvery-blue lines began to curl across the paper in beautiful calligraphy.

He finished reading it in a few minutes, and as he stared at the pretty envelope lying on his desk, he remembered what Draco said, and he pulled up his jaw. (He also moved the Chudley Cannons poster over to the vase, but that's another story.)

~*~

Hermione sat down on the pretty couch in Ginny Weasley's apartment, clutching the cold glass of pumpkin juice. Ginny sat down across her and smiled. "What is it, Hermione?" 

She smiled at her. "Oh, I've got some rather interesting news." Ginny moved closer, curious. Hermione leaned close and whispered into her ear, grinning all the while. 

When Ginny had leaned back into her chair, her bright blue eyes were sparkling with delight. "That's _wonderful, _Hermione! Omigod, when?!" Hermione pulled out a white envelope, identical to the one Draco handed Ron a while ago. "Here, all the details are in this." She winked at Ginny, passing her the envelope. "Now, I've got to go. Just owl me if you've got any more questions…" 

Hermione stood up and Apparated out.

Ginny laughed. "Oh well, who would have thought…" Suddenly she sat bolt upright. "Omigod! What am I going to wear?!"

~*~

Parvati looked up as the simple brown owl flew in through her window. Rushing over to it, she proceeded to knock over a beautifully painted vase which fell to the floor with a loud crash. She stopped, hand over her mouth. The voice of an aged woman called out from downstairs. 

"Parvati, did you break _another _vase? You'd better Repair that… or I'll…". "Yes Mum!" Parvati yelled back, performing a _Reparo _charm. 

She went over to the owl, recognizing it as Hermione's Sohyru. "Hello… now, what have you got for me?" The owl let her remove the white envelope and accompanying parchment from it's leg before accepting the owl treat and the offer to stay for the night. 

Parvati unrolled the parchment first, and when she had finished reading it, she just _had _to jump up and down. *_Crash!* _

"Parvati! Was that another vase?!"

~*~

__

Berna glanced once at the ebony-black owl that had flown in through her window. She frowned, recognizing it as Draco's Cimmerian. "And what do _you _want from me?" She walked over to it and held out a hand for its letter. Cimmerian flew off at once, knowing when it was not needed, and not welcome. 

Berna read the letter, then opened the white envelope. She raised an eyebrow. "I thought so." She looked out the window, at the endless sky of stars, pressing the letter to her chest. "But what about Harry?" she whispered wistfully.

~*~

__

"Knock, knock!" Hermione called out from outside Harry's front door. "Let me in, it's freezing in your hallway!" She banged on the door. "Coming, hold on a minute, will you…" Harry swung the door open, and there was a definite sparkle to his eyes when he saw Hermione.

"Oh, hello! Come in and partake of wonderful nectar and ambrosia, which, when sipped, shall bring you immortality and the chance to live with me, the wonderful god of… er… house-keeping! forever and ever!" They laughed, and Harry invited Hermione in.

Harry gestured apologetically towards the messy room. "Sorry, it isn't much. Berna tried to keep it tidy when she come over once in a while, but when she comes back, it's just like she never touched it." Hermione waved his apology away. "Never mind, Harry! So… how are things going?" she asked, settling herself on the lumpy couch. 

Harry shrugged, Summoning an empty cup out of the kitchen. He handed it to Hermione, who, with a tap of her wand, filled it with coffee. 

He sat down across her, smiling. "How are you?" Hermione suddenly broke out in an equally wide smile. "Oh, Harry! I've got the greatest news!" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Okay, what?"

Hermione pulled a white envelope out of her bag and held it out to him. "Here. Read this."

Harry took it from her, but as he took the envelope in his hand, his fingers met hers, and the effect was electrifying. Warmth spread through him as he took her hand in his, and his eyes never left her face. Harry met her gaze, a piercing emerald gaze hiding everything, and he could hear his own heart pounding furiously in his ears. Hermione watched him warily, eyes slightly narrowed. "Harry…" 

He glanced up at her, and let go of her hand slowly, taking the envelope, pretending everything was fine, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart. "Er… so, what's the buzz?" 

Hermione stood up, clutching her bag. "I've got to go, Harry, but promise me you'll go, okay?" Harry nodded without thinking. Hermione leaned closer for her usual goodbye kiss on the cheek… but something seemed to stop her, and she stepped back, settling for a casual wave instead. 

Harry, who had looked up expectantly for her kiss, saw the way she had moved away, and an unexplainable pain seemed to jab at his heart. However, he tried to smile, and tried to let her go. 

As Hermione walked out onto the main street of Godric's Hollow, closing Harry's apartment door behind her, she had absolutely no idea how hard it was for Harry to let her do exactly that… to simply let her walk out of his life again, and close the door to her heart.

He listened to the door close quietly, and he allowed himself one small sigh. A sigh for the only woman he had ever loved. Guiltily, he thought about Berna, who surely loved him very much. _I can't help it… it's like every day I spend with Berna, I love Hermione more and more… _

Harry turned to the envelope lying on the couch, yet unopened. He picked it up and watched as it opened itself. He observed the silver-blue letters fan out on the parchment, but when he got to the end of the invitation, for that's what it was, his verdant eyes were sparkling with tears.

~*~

__

Draco Thomas Magnum Malfoy

&

Hermione Anne Granger

A Union of Souls

May 4, 2008

~*~

So one heart was broken, and two were rejoicing. However, somewhere on the green earth, another heart was bent on tearing all three apart.

~*~

Berna sighed as another owl began tapping at her window. _Fourth time today… First was that silly wedding invitation, then Virginia asking about fashion style… silly girl… and then Harry, asking me about the wedding again… _

She sat bolt upright in bed as she recognized the owl's tapping. "Damn."

She ran to the window and flung it open, letting in a cold blast of spring air and a soft gray owl. "Pride." Berna whispered, stroking the owl's feathers. The owl hooted once and dropped a letter on her desk before nipping her gently and flying off into the darkness.

Berna opened the lengthy letter warily. When the last line, written in a delicate female hand had been read, the letter curled up in a ball of harmless green flame before evaporating completely. The blue-eyed girl sat down slowly, head in hands.

"Anything for you. But… why me?"

~*~

The aging woman sitting at her desk smiled as she scanned the lines of the letter in her large hands. It was a smile of satisfaction. It was also a smile of calculation, and partly a smile of triumph. She took off her hideously gaudy glasses and shook her head, curls bouncing rigidly around her face. 

Rita Skeeter was satisfied with the "scoop" her snoops had found for her. She was calculating the best way to twist it with her own talents, as she was banned from using Quick-Quotes-Quills. And she was triumphant for her own reasons.

"Finally… a way to get back to that wretched Granger girl."

~*~

__

Harry laid his head down on the arm of the couch, willing the tears at the corners of his eyes not to spill. "This cannot be happening…" He blinked hard and pulled off his glasses. Raising his tousled head, he squinted at the framed Muggle photograph on the table beside him. 

Hermione smiled into the sun, an unseen breeze blowing her hair away from her face, making her the teenager that she really was. Harry touched the cool glass. "Hermione…" he whispered in a voice hoarse with wistful sadness. "Why?"

~*~

"Why?" Hermione laughed as Draco pulled her down to him, their faces inches apart. His eyes twinkled up at her. "Why what?" He smiled. "Why am I marrying you?" She teasingly pulled a stray lock of his silvery-blond hair. 

"Is that a serious question, and does it require a serious answer?"

Hermione laid down beside him on the narrow sofa, their bodies overlapping. "Yes, it's a serious question." Draco propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, holding her gaze. "Hmm… let's see." 

He touched her forehead. "You're a wonderfully smart, sweet, beautiful woman." Then he laid another, slim, cool finger on one of her closed eyelids. "We fit together in ways no one could ever dream off… you complement me, I complement you." He touched the other eyelid gently, smiling as Hermione smiled. "If you're a wonderful, smart, sweet and beautiful woman, I'm a wonderful, smart, sweet and handsome man."

Draco leaned down and touched his lips to hers before softly whispering: "And I'm marrying you because I love you… heart and soul."

~*~

__

Visit me at http://www.absentmindedme.blogspot.com/

Don't' expect too much.


	4. SilverTongued

AN: Okay, this is going to be short compared to the rest of my future chapters. Why? Because I'm mad. Mad as in angry. And maybe mad as in lunatic. Why? _Because I've finally found my soulmate, and he doesn't know I exist!_

Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling, anything else belongs to me. The citrus vodka, however, belongs to Paola. No, you won't succeed in suicide anytime soon, sweetie… as long as I'm keeping the vodka and aspirin out of your hands.

Dedicated to: No one. I can't think straight. Too hungry.

Chapter Three: Silver-tongued

__

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song 

I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you until the end of time

- Come What May, Moulin Rouge

Draco stood in front of the very same door he himself, as a child had walked through so many time. Why now, of all times, did his heart plead with him to stay where he was?

He took a deep breath and lifted a hand to the beautiful yet sinister carved brass knocker. But the second he touched the cold metal, a shivering pain charged through his body, and the world went black. 

When he came to, he was lying on a bed. Not just any bed, but a bed which sent childhood memories swirling back into his head in a whiff of cedar scent. He sat up, and immediately groaned as the pain in his head increased. A high, but cultured voice beside him made him look around, and groan even more.

"Welcome to the Malfoy Manor. Please state your business."

Draco stared down at the house-elf, which stared up at him just as intensely. "I'm Draco Thomas Malfoy, and _I used to live here." _The house-elf looked unimpressed. "I want to speak to my mother."

Draco scrambled off his bed, and head spinning, stood in the middle of the room.

The house-elf followed him out of the room and down the hallways, watching him stumble on the stone floor. "Mister _Malfoy, _if you are who you say you are, I'd like to see some credible proof of your heritage." Draco whirled around, angry. "Can't you see me?! _Malfoy _is written all over my face! My hair, skin… even my drawl!" The house-elf suddenly darted to him. "With your permission…" 

And the elf lifted Draco's shirt up.

"What the hell?!"

"Ah, yes, Mister Malfoy, your mother is in the drawing room… Shall I escort you there?"

~*~

In a few minutes, Draco was seated in his favorite armchair in that drawing room, with a perfectly made frozen margarita in his hands. He sent it away and had it replaced with a citrus vodka. He sat there, sipping it nervously, waiting for his mother to walk in.

But Narcissa Malfoy never walks. She glides.

Draco stood up when she came into the room, and she motioned for him to sit down with a cool, slim hand. She took her seat in front of the fireplace, facing Draco. And now, in the midst of such rich surroundings, in front of the woman who had brought him to life, the time had come for Draco to prove just how silver-tongued he really was.

~*~

"I love her, and you can't stop me from what I'm going to do!" Draco stood up from his chair, knocking his wineglass to the floor. Narcissa Malfoy, the lovely woman he once called "Mummy" sat across from him, watching him calmly. 

After taking a slow sip from her tea, she stood up as well, carrying herself with grace, and quiet dignity, yet her anger seemed to emanate from every inch of that pale skin. "No. She is a Mudblood, and you have blood of the highest Dark families running in your very veins. Do not dare bring yourself down to her level. Has your father not taught you anything?!" she raised her voice, bringing back memories of the days when Draco used to cower in a corner and weep. 

Her cold grey eyes pierced into Draco's, which had long ago lost that very same expression. "Your _father _is dead. Have you been waiting all this time for that to happen? So you can marry that… that _creature?!" _

Draco shuddered, yet kept his stand. "Yes, Father is dead now, and there is no way you can break Hermione and I apart." He took something from the pocket of his black robe and cast it on the tabletop. "I won't need this anymore, Mummy." he spat, emphasizing the last word. 

She flinched, so very faintly. She glanced at the object on the table, and picking it up slowly, slid it into her pocket. 

Then, in a blind rage, eyes burning with hurt pride, she pointed her wand at her son. "Pointing a killing wand at my very own son could very well be the last thing I'll ever do. But reasons come along."

Narcissa's voice was low, threatening, and it chilled her son to the bone. But he stood there, willing to receive any curse she may utter. For an eternity and a second, mother and son stood eye to eye, both hating each other with all malevolence they could muster.

Finally, Narcissa lowered her wand. "Ebony and dragon heartstring, Gregorovitch creation." fluttered faintly through Draco's mind as relief flooded through his veins. She glared at him, unable to unleash her wrath.

She then aimed her wand at a gilded black box on the dresser and Summoned it to herself. Narcissa caught it, opened it, removing an opal amulet from between the velvet lining. There was something in the reverent way she handled it, that made Draco know that it was very valuable.

She thrust it into her som's hands. "Take this... and you will find the key to the Gringott's vault inside. I would like to hear that Narcissa Kailine Malfoy never left anything to her son, no matter how stupid or brazen he was in choosing his life-long partner." she hissed. 

And she stalked out of the room, her silvery-blond hair billowing behind her.

Draco stood in the middle of the room, staring after his mother, the black amulet heavy and cold in his hands, echoing the same about his heart.

~*~

Narcissa stalked angrily through the stone corridors, pulling a black cloak around her all the while. She stopped in front of a painting which depicted a handsome young man, skin as pale as the full moon, eyes as blue as the summer sky, hair as dark as the raven's wing. He looked down at Narcissa. "You grow more and more beautiful everytime the sun rises." Narcissa ignored the young Lucius' remark. "You didn't have to change your eye color when you grew up. Blue eyes like that are lovely… but they _are _against the Malfoy Code." 

Narcissa raised her wand slowly. _"Lucet." _

The painting swung open, and Narcissa stepped inside, hiding tears.

~*~

Hermione helped Draco out of his cloak. "Would you like something to drink?" Draco walked slowly towards the kitchen. "Yes, a citrus vodka, please." Hermione went doubtfully to the cabinet which housed their alcohol. "And some aspirin, please."

She whirled around angrily. "You shouldn't joke like that! I had a friend who…" she broke off when she saw his eyes, which were twinkling sadly. "Oh, Draco…"

~*~

Harry stood dejectedly in front of his closet, looking for something he knew was there, but couldn't bear to touch. A tapping at the window brought him out of his painful reveries. He walked over and let Ron's Impecunir into the room.

_Harry,_

Stop moping and start looking for clothes for the wedding! It's only a week away! Parvati already got me dress robes, and they're a shade of purple that looks suspiciously like maroon, but Parvati said that it was "grape". Sure.

I know that Malfoy's not the greatest bloke in the whole world, but Hermione seems to love him a lot, and Parvati's convinced… and so am I. Tell you what, just trust Hermione, okay? She's been right more that 98% of her life, and I think she's right about Draco Malfoy too.

Ron

Harry tossed the letter aside and put his head in his hands. "Ron… I still love her. But you don't know that, do you?"

~*~

A dark figure stood in front of a cauldron, which was bubbling with a black potion. Chanting softly in a voice to chill your very bones, the figure bent over and touched the potion with the tip of a long, pale and slender finger. The chanting grew higher and more frenzied as the figure traced a line on a sheet of dragon-skin suspended in front of her. 

A line, with a black star on the end, and as the unworldly chanting grew louder, she traced three lines crosswise the larger line.

Suddenly a sizzling sound filled the room, and the diagram glowed bright green before embedding itself in the dragon-skin.

The figure waited for the green glow to fade before beckoning to another, smaller figure in the shadows.

That one walked forward, bearing a strangely familiar black amulet. The chanting rose once more and the smaller figure joined it, the voices becoming a cacophony, as the tall one dipped the amulet in the black brew. 

Using the same finger that had touched the potion a while ago, the tall figure traced a slash across the smaller one's chest. A sinister black line trailed onto the robe, glowing in the faint firelight. 

And there was a scream.

~*~

__

Draco suddenly sat up, breathing heavily, sweat beading his skin, paler than ever by moonlight. Hermione jolted awake, rubbing her eyes. "What's wrong? Draco…" He brushed off her hand and covered his eyes with a trembling hand. "Nothing."

~*~

"What did you give your mother?" Hermione asked over their morning cup of coffee. Draco frowned. "Please… don't talk about her." Hermione shrugged, and Draco downed his coffee with cognac.

__

No, Draco is not becoming an alcoholic.


	5. Nuptials

AN: Hello, back again, better than before! (Apologies to the Blue Team cheerwriters.) Yay! We're doing _Once on This Island _for our showcase in drama class, and we present on May 8! Me ghods, it's hard! Sorry for the dumb chapter title. I'm stoopid today. *sigh*

Disclaimer: Characters and anything you may recognize from the four HP books aren't mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling. The song belongs to 98° . (You may stop snickering now.) Anything and everything else? Mine, all mine! *insert evil laughter here*

Dedicated to: CharmedHpfanatic, take care! (_Si Ate Wanda at si Micki nag-Trumpets! Ako Circle Isle… ingat ka diyan!) _Katana47, my wonderful, faithful, terrific reviewer who enjoys dropping one-word reviews, much to my happiness! And to Sincerity, the delightful one who has probably reviewed each and every one of the stories under my name… love ya all! Hey Catherine, this is for you too.

Note: AHEM! Berna G. in my fic may be quite the antagonist, but in real life, Berna is one of the loveliest people I know! I fell pretty bad doing this because she has me as such a nice cameo in her fic, (well, until the end, I guess.) and here I am, making her all evil and such… hey, she's a great person, okay? Just wanted to get that across.

ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF ALERT!!! *~* FLUFF 

Chapter Five: Nuptial 

__

All I am

Draco Thomas Magnum Malfoy was extremely scared. This was saying something, as he had never been this nervous in his whole life. But anyone looking at the handsome, polished young man standing in front of the altar in his best formal dress robes would never guess that he was tense.

Oh, but he was. He was tense, strung like a wire, for any moment now, his beautiful bride would come down that red carpet.

__

All I be

Hermione Anne Granger stood in the back of the church, clutching her father's arm, and trying to breathe normally. She could see part of the church, but she couldn't see Draco, not yet. Parvati had insisted to keeping them away from each other until the last moment.

Hermione fidgeted with her dress. Yes, it was beautiful, and in a flash of rare vanity, Hermione was perfectly sure that she was just as beautiful.

__

Everything in this world

The music began. All the guests twisted around in anticipation of the bride. But first, there were the bridesmaids.

Parvati came down the aisle, exotically pretty in her pale purple gown, and on the arm of Ron, who was nervously grinning for all his worth. Somewhere among the crowd, Molly Weasley nudged her husband and whispered. "Is our Weasley hair really that bright, because I can see his hair from the back of the church!"

Whispers dashed through the crowd at the sight of the next couple. Coming down the red carpet, looking for all the world like the perfect couple, walked Harry Potter and Berna Guerrero. Berna smiled, obviously the crowd-pleaser, but Harry's usually bright eyes were dull under his (charmed) neat black hair.

Her bright red hair pulled up into a graceful bun at the nape of her slender neck, Ginny glided down on the arm of Fred. She looked a bit ticked off at the fact that she was the only one among her friends without a significant other. Meanwhile, Fred winked jauntily at Angelina, who was sitting near the aisle.

George was next, smiling brightly as he escorted Lavender, who was beaming as well, having done almost everybody else's make-up extremely skillfully.

Much to everybody's surprise, the ringbearer was a beautiful eighteen-year-old, who walked slowly and gracefully down the walkway with head held high and pillow in front of her. Catherine Guerrero was having her moment, and she was going to enjoy it until the minute she got to the front.

__

All that I ever need

Is in your eyes

Shining at me

There was no doubt, that the moment Hermione appeared, that a collective sigh rose from the assembly. Draco blinked, then blinked again, and whispered silently to himself: "Damnit, just like prom night…"

Her father was aging, and there was a definite sadness in his warm brown eyes that marked the leaving of his only child. But still, there was jaunt in his step and a smile on his face.

Hermione walked slowly, blushing and keeping the smile on her pink lips. Random thoughts rushed through her head... _My god, this aisle is long... Poor Daddy… I wonder if Professor McGonagall is here… Sweetie, keep your back straight, yes, that's it… _

But when she got to the front, and saw Draco for the first time that day, only one thought stood in her brain, like a blinking neon sign. 

"Omigod… I'm actually _in love." _

When you smile

I can feel all my passion unfolding

Draco avoided her gaze, afraid of what might happen. But he felt her there beside him, warm and comforting. Slowly, he turned to her, and she looked up at him, and their eyes met, like so many times before… but sparks flew, like nothing they had ever felt before.

She smiled, and something inside Draco clenched, bittersweet and beautiful. He smiled back, eyes warm, and Hermione was, once again, taken aback by the sweet irony of life.

__

Your hand brushes mine

The priest began to speak, and they were distracted, but as they knelt side by side, Hermione reached out to Draco, and the touch of her warm hand sent his head spinning.

__

And a thousand sensations

Seduce me 'coz I…

"So this is what it's like to be in love…" he whispered softly, and Hermione giggled. "Draco… I'm rather familiar with this… _love. _I should know, it's what I feel everytime I look at you." Draco looked down at his slightly trembling hands, ignoring everything around him, including the priest's opening prayer, everything, except the woman beside him.

__

I do

Cherish you

Farther back, Patricia Patil nudged Molly Weasley. "I didn't know that the Malfoy boy was a Christian…" Molly shrugged. "I'm not too sure about that either, but Hermione is definitely a Christian, and young Malfoy must have agreed to her choice of wedding."

Parvati's mother settled back to her seat, seemingly satisfied. "Pretty sweet of him, then."

__

For the rest of my life

You don't have to think twice

The minister, a friend of Hermione's father, had a deep, warm voice, and it was this voice that spoke out that moment, startling Draco. "Doth anyone knows of any reason why this marriage should not take place, speak now, else forever hold his peace."

Draco nudged Hermione gently. "May I?" She glared at him, and he grinned apologetically.

Right behind them, Harry James Potter's eyes were glittering.

__

I will

Love you still

Draco coughed quietly. "Anyone who dare speak up will be subject to the Cruciatus Curse." Hermione smiled, glad for that little interjection. "I'm glad you love me." she whispered, her words muffled by her veil. "What? You're mad?" Draco raised an eyebrow. Hermione stared straight ahead.

__

From the depths of my soul

It's beyond my control

"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" The priest looked towards Hermione's father, and he nodded. Draco suddenly stiffened, unsure if the priest would mention _his _father, who wasn't there, or his mother, who declined to attend. The priest didn't, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

__

I've waited so long

To say this to you

"Hermione Anne Granger, wilt thou have this man to be thy lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the state of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, till death do you part?" 

The priest turned startling green eyes to Hermione, and she gasped quietly at the painful reminder of the dark-haired young man standing behind her, eyes of the same color, and of the same intensity, but of different passion. _He still loves me… _she thought.

__

If you're asking

Do I love you this much?

She swallowed, and felt the gaze of each and every person in the church upon her, her parents, friends… Draco… and _Harry. _

"I do."

__

I do

The priest turned to Draco, who looked like he had eaten the wrong Bertie Bott's Bean. 

"Draco Thomason Magnum Malfoy, wilt thou have this woman to be thy lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the state of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, till death do you part?"

__

In my world before you

Lived outside my emotions

Didn't know where I was going

Draco closed his eyes, and thought of the "old Draco." The one, so cruel and heartless, without emotion, acting on pure instinct and arrogance. The one so bent on power and wealth. The on without a heart.

__

Till that day

I found you

And you opened my eyes

To a new paradise

He knew he was now a different man, a better person, and all because of that one beautiful girl. He smiled, eyes still shut, and knew that he liked the "new Draco." He knew what he was going to say.

"I do."

__

In a world torn by change

A collective sigh rose from the audience, and if Hermione was facing them, she would have seen Professor McGonagall wring a tear from her eyes. Draco wouldn't have cared, as most of the people there were Hermione' guests. No Malfoy sat among them, and for that, Draco was thankful.

__

Still with all my heart

'til my dying day

The priest held out the rings, and Draco picked up the thinner, more slender one, trying to remember what he was going to say. "I, Draco Thomason Magnum Malfoy…" he screwed up his face slightly, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. "…take thee, Hermione Anne Granger, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer…" A snicker rose from the more scornful part of the audience, which Draco graciously ignored. "…in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, and this is my solemn vow."

He took her hand, and with emotion burning in his dusky eyes, slipped the ring onto her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honour and all my worldly goods with thee I share. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." 

Draco suddenly stepped back, the smallest of serious smiles on his face. "May I kiss her now?" he whispered. Hermione smiled at him. "That comes later."

__

I do

Cherish you

For the rest of my life

You don't have to think twice

Hermione picked up the other ring with trembling hands. Draco noticed this, and his eyes grew softer. In a voice that would have been steady, she whispered. "I, Hermione Anne Granger, take thee, Draco Thomason Magnum Malfoy, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, and this is my solemn vow."

She touched his hand with the wistfulness of a child, and Draco suddenly had the urge to sweep her off her feet and carry her away from the stares of the crowd.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honour and all my worldly goods with thee I share. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost."

__

I will

Love you still

From the depths of my soul

It's beyond my control

As the priest said those famous last words, the sun seemed to exist only to shine for the blissfully happy couple. _"I now pronounce you man and wife." _

Collective sighs, cheers, gasps and laughs flowed through the crowd as Draco, in a completely rare (and completely OOC) display of affection, swept Hermione into his arms, a smile on his lips. Hermione laughed as someone, most likely an overeager Parvati, threw rose petals all over the newlyweds. 

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest was smiling in spite of himself. Draco touched Hermione's lips carefully. "I thought he'd never say that." he whispered, and he kissed her with all the love he could muster.

__

I've waited so long

To say this to you

If you're asking 

Do I love you this much

Hermione felt the sweet pressure of his lips against her own, and closing her eyes, she submitted to the heartbreaking beauty of it all…

__

I do

So they made their way out of the church, amid screams from eager bridesmaids, kisses from the bride's parents, and peltings of rice and rose petals.

~*~

"Yes, thank you so much for coming!" Hermione leaned close to kiss her aunt on the cheek. The very same aunt tapped Draco on the shoulder. "You take care of my niece now, you hear?" Draco nodded good-naturedly. "Of course, Aunt… er…"

"Margie." Hermione put in hurriedly. "Yes, thank you, and enjoy the reception." Draco waved blandly as the old Muggle hobbled off to mingle with the other guests. He leaned close to Hermione. "Do we _really _have to go through with this?" he whispered. Hermione waved to another distant relative and whispered back. "Yes… but we can go in to the reception when everyone's done."

Draco sighed.

~*~

After what seemed like a million guests to thank and to welcome, Hermione and Draco set off into the reception, with Hermione whispering a spell to change her gown into a simple white dress. They greeted people with glasses of wine and butterbeer, exchanging winks with wizards and pleasantries with Muggles.

Suddenly, two very familiar people appeared in front of them, eliciting puzzled looks from all the Muggles around them. "Weren't they on the other end of the room a while ago?"

(AN: I feel like putting an Author's Note here, so… here it is!)

Draco's was taken aback, but Hermione burst into a squeal of delight. "Professor McGonagall! Professor Dumbledore! How wonderful to see you here! I'm so glad you came…" Dumbledore twinkled at Draco, who smiled uneasily. "No need to look so apprehensive, young Mister Malfoy." When Draco flinched at the name, Dumbledore smiled comfortingly.

"We've come to give you this." Professor McGonagall held out a package. Draco took it, unsure. "Um, wedding present could be placed over there, by the cake." He said, pointing. The Transfiguration teacher looked at him sharply. "This certain present requires… _charms _that we could assist you with." 

A passing Muggle nodded. "Oh, I see, you have to program that thing first, whatever it is, right?" Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Exactly. Now, would you please accompany me to a certain place where…"

~*~

__

Hermione and Draco soon found themselves in the back room, wands out. "Yes?" Hermione looked around at Professor McGonagall expectantly, as if this was some kind of test. Draco unwrapped the package to reveal… 

"A clock." He muttered, staring at it. "Ah, not just any clock." Dumbledore smiled, reachign out and taking it from Draco. It was a beautiful thing, wrought of gold and silver, but instead of numbers, it had words around it.

"I've seen one of those before! Ron has that in his house." Hermione stared at the handless clock. "Yes, I believe _we _gave that to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as _their _wedding present." Professor McGonagall peered over her spectacles at them. "Now, shall we 'program' this Tracer?"

"Hold out your wands over it, and intone: _Appendiom Cognomen _and then say the first and last name of the person you wish to add as a hand on the clock. Think wisely, because you will not be able to remove the hands once they are placed in."

Draco held out his wand, and voice firm, intoned: "_Appendiom Cognomen Hermione Granger." _A blue hand appeared on the clock, labeled with Hermione's name, and it promptly swung around to: _Church. _Hermione clapped her hands, obviously pleased, and in her turn, placed Draco's name onto the clock, where the hand, silver this time, swung around to meet Hermione's.

Draco stepped back, satisfied, but not Hermione.

"_Appendiom Cognomen Harry Potter."_

"Appendiom Cognomen Ron Weasley."

Draco sputtered. "What?!" Dumbledore held up a hand. "Let her do as she pleases. They are her friends, after all." Draco sighed, then straightened up. "Professor, have you used one of these… _Tracers… _to track my fath- _Lucius _down?" 

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "The hand that appears always swings onto 'Mortal Peril.'"

~*~

The day rushed by, with kisses and hugs and congratulations. 

"Hermione… hey, Hermione!" Hermione whirled around to the sight of Ron pushing his way through the crowd to get to her, butterbeer bottle in hand. "Ron!" Hermione kissed on his freckled cheek, while Parvati nodded at Draco, who kissed her hand mockingly. "Well, you went and did it, you married the…" Ron grinned at Draco. "the… git." Draco bowed. "Why, thank you, Ronald."

Harry suddenly appeared by Hermione, Berna on his arm. "Congratulations Hermione." she smiled at the bride, and Hermione was surprised to hear a note of sincere happiness in her voice. "Thank you, Berna, and… well, your sister was lovely!" Berna shrugged. "You were prettier."

Harry and Draco stared at each other, Draco with mild interest, and Harry with concealed fire. Hermione stepped in between them, sensing the tension. "Harry…" she whispered, planting a chaste, withheld kiss on his warm cheek. He smiled weakly down at her. "Congratulations." She nodded.

"Yes. Thanks."

Ginny rushed to Hermione, eyes bright and overflowing with compliments and cheer, while Fred and George presented Hermione with a gold-plated toilet seat engraved with her and Draco's full name.

George nudged Draco, who was staring at it with obvious shock. "Lighten up, Draco boy. It was pretty hard to engrave 'Thomason', you know…"

Hermione's parents were elated, yet stopping to ask Draco about _his _parents. Hermione, noticing the way he stiffened, quickly jumped in. "They weren't able to stop by, but they send us their wishes." she smiled at her mother.

Draco's hand closed around the cold, black amulet in his pocket. "Yes, they do…" he whispered.

~*~

At the end of the day, the guests had congregated in the garden for the traditional throwing of the bouquet, which Hermione had reserved for the end of the reception. 

Hermione stood there, back to the crowd, the bouquet of thornless white roses in her hands. "One, two… _three." _she whispered, flinging it over her shoulder. Screams and general chaos ensued among her girl friends, and finally, Parvati was left holding the bouquet.

She squealed and positively jumped into Ron's arms, proceeding to kiss Ron all over his extremely red face. 

Hermione laughed, but then, Draco grabbed her hand and led her to the waiting limousine. They ran over the lawn, dodging the rice and the petals, laughing.

~*~

Safe in the car, Hermione leaned back, tired, yet the happiest woman in the world. Draco pulled out a folder and gave it to her, eyes twinkling. "This is our marriage license, all approved, and a little surprise."

Hermione lifted up the official-looking papers and then let out the smallest of screams. 

"Omigod… Draco!" she held up the two tickets to Venice, tears standing in her eyes. "My dream honeymoon… how did you know?"

Draco grinned to himself as Hermione enveloped him in a tight hug. "A little black book told me so."


	6. Years After

AN: This is so silly. I just wrote the last word to my fifth chapter… (me.) and now, I'm writing my sixth chapter, but it's set TWO FREAKING YEARS LATER. I hope you don't mind. I'll elaborate soon.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

- So don't sue. -

Dedicated to: The beautiful young man who sends shivers down my spine every time his name pops into my love-clouded brain. And to CharmedHpfanatic, Catherine, Katana47, and Sincerity… all of whom are my very faithful reviewers. :)

Chapter Six: Years After.

__

Quid novi? (What's new?)

***May 4, 2010***

Another day in the life of Hermione Anne Granger. Another day crossed off on the talking calendar. Another smile on the lips of her sleeping husband. Another cup of coffee made. Another bout of fussing over breakfast. Another day in the life of Hermione Anne Granger.

Hermione knelt beside Draco, tickling his nose with a strand of her tousled hair. "Good morning…" she whispered into his ear, smiling at the way his eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of very beautiful, very sleepy grey eyes. 

"Morning…" he mumbled, rolling over in the wide, feather bed. Hermione laughed softly and got off the bed, heading to the shower.

Thirty minutes, one shower and several cups of coffee later, Draco was sitting at the breakfast table, wide awake and watching his wife. "Where are you off to now?" he asked, grinning at her, as she dashed through the house. "Raid… Alastor just Communicated…" she gasped breathlessly. Draco raised an eyebrow.

She smiled as she checked her wand, and he raised a hand lazily right before she Disapparated. "Take care… I love you."

Draco glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall, watched as the hand labeled "Hermione Granger" spun around to stop on "Work." Draco chuckled softly. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, clock. If that hand goes anywhere near 'Mortal Peril', I'll blast you to pieces before I set off to hunt for Hermione."

He knew Hermione's job was dangerous, he knew it all too well. But he had complete faith in her magical ability, and so far, the worst injuries she ever brought home were bruises, an occasional cracked rib or a Trance. Draco stood up and stretched. "She wouldn't have been put in Gryffindor for nothing."

He climbed the stairs up to the bedroom, planning another day of luxuriant laziness. "She's one brave woman…"

~*~

Chanting softly, Hermione traced the line on the ground, careful not to miss a single inch of the cold stone pavement. Behind her, she could hear the indistinct crackling sounds as her fellow Aurors placed up Shielding Charms. She completed the Anti-Disapparating Circle and stood up, sighing. Ginny brushed past her, and smiled weakly. Hermione nodded back, whispering another charm to protect herself and all Aurors within fifteen feet.

Suddenly, a voice inside her head crackled to life, and she stared around nervously. It was Mad-eye, using the Silenced Communication Amulets he had distributed to his best Aurors. In a gruff voice, he ordered the front line to move in.

Hermione closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blasted the door open. _"Flipendo!" _

Aurors suddenly dashed past, pushing past Hermione, carrying her along. They immediately spread out inside the home they were raiding, a stately mansion, but, as Hermione thought, half the size of the Malfoy Manor. 

Mad-eye's voice crackled at Hermione. "Check the upstairs bedrooms… Malfaya Keene is known to be a late sleeper." Hermione sighed softly. _Here goes. _

She beckoned to Ginny, who followed her up the stairs, the Silencing Charms muffling their footsteps. Two other Aurors followed closely behind, Harry himself, and a novice, Beatrice. Hermione listened closely to the doors, shook her head at each one, but suddenly stopped at the largest door at the end of the hall.

She glanced behind her, and the three stared back at her. Harry's eyes were glinting again. She nodded. "One, two… _three!" _

Another _Flipendo _hex tore the door to pieces, and a high-pitched shriek resounded from inside the room. Hermione rushed in, eyes widening at the sight of the notorious Malfaya Keene. She was obviously very… _busy _with a man that Hermione had not recognized from family photos… and considering the compromising position they were in, he probably wasn't family at all. 

In the blink of an eye, Ginny and Harry had thrown magical ropes around Malfaya, while Hermione performed a charm to stop her from turning into her Animagus, which was a leopard. Hermione whispered the last incantation, ignoring the venomous way Malfaya glared at her.

Another shriek came from behind her, this one oddly familiar. They whirled around to see the man Malfaya had been with holding poor Beatrice in a strangle grip. Hermione raised her wand immediately, but Harry stopped her. "Don't!" Hermione glared at him, at the way his eyes were gleaming angrily. "Hurry! What about Beatrice?!" came Ginny's frantic voice from the bed, where she was holding Malfaya at wand-point. 

Half and eternity passed, the muffled shrieks from Malfaya, and the choking sounds from Beatrice filling the large room. Then… "_Stupefy!" _Harry yelled, his wand pointed straight at the man, who whirled around. Hermione gasped, and Ginny screamed as Beatrice crumpled to the floor, Stunned. The man turned and ran out the door, only to be confronted by another group of Aurors, this time with a mediwizard, who bent over the Stunned Beatrice, shaking his head. 

Hermione pushed past the crowd, shaking. She stumbled out into the garden, wiping the back of her eyes with her hand. _What's happening to him? _

~*~

"You look… sad. Is something wrong?" Draco looked up as Hermione entered the restaurant, making her way to the booth by the window, where he always sat and waited for her. 

"Another raid… nothing much…" She sat down in front of him, and a waitress hurried over. "The usual." Hermione ordered, without looking up. The waitress grinned and walked off to the kitchen, the order already written down.

Draco watched her go with mild amusement. "They know us by name here, don't they?" Hermione laughed softly. "Well, we _have _been meeting here for lunch every day for the past year." Draco reached across the table, taking her hand. "Is that okay with you? You don't… tire of this?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Draco! You know, when I walk in that door, tired and aching… and I see you sitting here, with that wistful, far-away look on your face…" Hermione waved her other hand aimlessly. "It just… _makes my day." _Draco grinned. "Why, thank you."

He leaned across the narrow table, and Hermione closed her eyes, falling into the kiss that melted her bones and made her heart miss a beat. Warmer and more intense it got, they were oblivious to the smiles of the restaurant patrons around them…

"Well, two years certainly haven't thawed you two out!"

Draco jerked away, and Hermione laughed, genuinely this time. "Hello, Ginny." She got up and sat beside Draco on the other end of the booth, leaving the seat free for Ginny, who promptly sat down. Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "How long have you been standing there?"

Ginny shrugged mischievously. "Pretty long… about the span of that kiss." Hermione blushed, but Draco simply kept his eyebrow raised. 

Hermione suddenly turned serious, glancing at her Alarm, a cleverly disguised Dark Detector that looked like a simple silver bracelet, but which glowed warm when detecting Dark magic nearby. "My bracelet's getting warm… something happening." She stared around her with an alertness that only Aurors were trained to have. Ginny herself straightened up, glancing furtively around the simple restaurant.

The bracelet glowed hotter and hotter on Hermione's wrist, until… "Gotcha!"

"Damnit!"

"Draco, what in the world are you doing… omigod!"

"Like it?"

"Draco!"

Hermione seized Draco, pulled him into an intense kiss, and Ginny whistled softly. They broke apart, Draco gasping for air, and the brightest of smiles on Hermione's face.

"Look!"

She dangled a necklace in front of Ginny's wide, blue eyes. "Oh, Hermione! It's so pretty!" Hermione studied it, smiling. "Draco here tried to put it into my bag with a Dark Sneaking Spell… but my bracelet gave him away." Draco sighed. "There's no getting past an Auror wife…"

The necklace itself was a thing of beauty, a simple silver chain with a pendant of clear crystal, with swirling silver liquid trapped inside. Hermione had held the small, tear-drop shaped pendant up to the light, her countenance one of pure delight. 

"What is it? It's beautiful!" she smiled at him happily. Draco took it from her and hung it around her neck. "It's called a Soul-Keeper." As the pendant came to rest over her heart, it shone suddenly and turned a gentle blue. 

"It changes color according to your present disposition." Draco whispered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Hermione's ear, and Ginny watched in amusement. "Really? So what does blue mean, then?" she asked, picking up the pendant and studying it carefully. "Happiness... peace..." Draco took her hands in his, a smile on his face... Suddenly the pendant glowed a vibrant red. Hermione looked down at it and blushed. 

"Really now, Hermione… you _do _love me…" Draco teased. Ginny leaned across the table. "I've seen one of those before, I think Bill got one from that insanely rich Fleur Delacour. Of course, it was on a more… _masculine _chain, and it wasn't tear-drop shaped… but a circle…" 

Draco fingered the fragile chain gently. "There's one more thing. If you tap it with your wand, and say a certain incantation... it will show you the face of the one whom you truly love." Hermione glanced up at him. "What's the incantation?" Draco shook his head. "Nope, I won't tell you, not yet. Bu it have complete trust in you that it will be my face in that pendant."

Ginny sighed, watching them kiss once more. "No wonder that veela bitch got mad when the pendant showed the face of Bill's last ex."

~*~

__

The food arrived, and as they dug in, Ginny dropped some bad news. "Hermione, about Beatrice…" Hermione looked up immediately, face serious. "What happened to her?" Ginny shook her head sadly. "The man was injecting a slow poison into her veins as he was choking her, and well… the Stunner that Harry shot at her didn't help."

Draco glanced up as well. "What did Potter do?" "It was a mistake!" Hermione snapped sharply. Draco shrugged and returned to his mashed potatoes. "What happened to Beatrice?" she turned back to Ginny. "She didn't make it. The man is on his way to Azkaban."

"What about Harry?"

"Resigned to paperwork. Moody was furious."

"Oh shit."

That was Draco. He glanced down at the Soul-Keeper, which was turning a dark, dark blue. "Hermione, don't cry, please. It wasn't your fault." He put an arm around the shaken woman. "But it is! If I hadn't listened to Harry, and…" she broke into sobs. "Poor Beatrice!" 

Ginny nodded sadly. "I'm sorry this had to happen on your anniversary, Hermione…" The Soul-Keeper caught the light, and Ginny, her eyes suddenly full of questioning. leaned forward.

"Draco… isn't that Soul-Keeper supposed to have your seal on it?" Draco, his eyes suddenly sharp, looked up from Hermione. "What do you mean by that?" Ginny backed away. "Well, Bill's had Fleur's family seal on it, it was a veela surrounded by admirers and… well, I know that Soul-Keepers are supposed to have the giver's seal on them."

Hermione picked up the Soul-Keeper, examining the unmarred surface. "Yes, Draco… where is your seal?" Draco paled slightly. "Never mind that, it's prettier without it."

Ginny glanced at Hermione and shrugged dismissively.

~*~

"Well, the food was delicious. As usual." Hermione laughed dryly. Draco glanced down at her, the tiniest sign of worry on his face. "Are you okay, Hermione?" Hermione smiled up at him distractedly. Ginny had left them after the lunch, Disapparating to her house beside the Burrow. Now, it was vaguely three in the afternoon, and they were strolling by the lake.

"I'm fine. No more raids scheduled today." She laughed again, the same, fake laugh. Draco touched her softly on the cheek, and they stopped walking. "You aren't fine. Something's been bothering you." Draco's eyes darted to the Soul-Keeper, which glowed a faint gray, which meant guilt. Hermione raised a hand to cover it, and in a small voice, spoke.

"It's Harry."

~*~

In half an hour, Hermione was in Draco's arms, sobbing out a story that Draco could only half understand. "He's so… _un-Harry! _I mean, he would never have done anything as reckless and send that… Stunner towards Beatrice…" Hermione hiccuped, face streaked with tears.

Draco stroked her hair, murmuring softly to her, listening intently. "And then.. he's so… shrewd lately. Harry has always had his own bit of pride…" Draco chuckled grimly. "Don't we know it?"

Hermione continued, the Soul-Keeper glowing a deep, intense dark blue. "But he seems so arrogant, so proud… making foolish decisions and… being so… _mean." _Draco cupped Hermione's chin, staring into her eyes filled with tears.

"Why?"

Hermione sucked in her breath. "I don't know! He's been like this for the last few months… and…" she broke off and began to cry into Draco's shoulder. Draco patted her distractedly. _Wasn't Potter still living with that Berna woman?_

~*~

Draco walked down the cobblestones of Godric's Hollow, cloak swishing around him in the cool night air. Back at their apartment, Hermione watched the Tracer's "Draco Malfoy" hand swing onto "traveling." A few minutes later, it swung back over to: "visiting."

Draco casually poked the keyhole with his wand, and it opened slowly. Two figures on the couch immediately sprang apart the moment he entered the room. "That was Dark magic, Draco! I could get you to Azkaban with that!" Harry Potter stood up from the couch, his green eyes glittering angrily. Draco smirked. "Get me into Azkaban? Sure, Potter, how? Through _paperwork?" _Harry sucked in his breath… rage in every line of his handsome face.

And he Disapparated with a *pop*.

~*~

__

Hermione frowned as the hand marked "Harry Potter" shuddered, but did not move away from 'home', where it had been for the past month.

"What is Draco up to? I should get this clock fixed…"

~*~

__

Draco turned towards the couch, where a very pale Berna Guerrero sat, immense distrust in her wide blue eyes. "Hello, Berna. Would you mind making me a cup of tea?" Draco smiled at her. Berna got up, shaking. "Yes, I would mind. Would _you _mind getting out of my house?!" Draco shrugged slowly. "Not really… but I _have _come on a very important mission." He laughed softly.

Berna glared at him.

Draco sat down on the couch and looked innocently up at Berna, who stood over him. "I'm not going to hurt you, Berna. Here, catch." He casually tossed her his wand. Berna automatically caught it, surprised. She placed it on the mantelpieceas if it was a very small, but very lethal Blast-Ended Skrewt, and walked over to stand across from Draco.

"What do you want… _Malfoy?"_

Draco smiled sadly. "Nothing much… I just want to talk. I've just had a very big fight with my wife… and…" he broke off, in his eyes an immeasurable amount of pain. "Well, I just needed someone to talk to…" he gestured at the empty spot where Harry had stood in a minute ago. "I was hoping Potter would listen, but I guess I shouldn't have been so hasty."

Berna's cold blue eyes softened. "What happened between you and Hermione?" She asked, sitting down on the couch, but keeping a respectful distance away from Draco, who was slouched down at the other end. Draco shrugged. "I asked her to stop going to Knockturn Alley so much. I mean, she's an Auror and all, she insists on going down there to scout things out… and well, I was worried about her safety. It just grew and grew… into a big shouting match."

He frowned. "I wish she'd trust me more… she knows all I want is her well-being." He turned towards Berna, who was sitting very still and silent. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. Berna stared at him for the briefest of eternities, then did something extremely unexpected.

In a blink of an eye, she was standing in front of Draco, her wand pointed directly over his heart, her chest heaving, eyes full of unreadable anger. "I don't need you, Malfoy…" she whispered. Draco glanced down at the wand, and said calmly. "What?" 

"I don't need your pity, and I don't need your lies." She pointed towards the door. "Get out. Now." Draco stood up, and peacefully made his way to the door. However, at the doorway, he stopped and turned to her. "_Accio wand!" _His wand flew across the room and landed in his outstrecthed palm. Grinning, Draco showed Berna his real wand, which had been concealed in his sleeve all along. 

"I could have burned out your eyes, Berna." he whispered. "But that would have been a waste. Maybe your heart… I don't know where that brain of yours is leading you, but I'm pretty sure that your heart is pulling you the other way." He fixed her with a piercing silver glare. "You love him." 

With that, he turned and was gone.

~*~

Hermione watched the clock spin to 'traveling' and finally to 'home.' "Draco!" She stood up and ran to the hallway, where the aforementioned man was hanging up his cloak. He smiled and swept her into a hug, but his eyes were emotionless. "Hello…"

"What did you find out? What happened to Harry?" she bombarded him with questions as they walked to the kitchen. Draco shrugged. "Berna seems extremely high-strung… she looks extremely tired, but she's very… _volatile. _She's also very suspicious and wary…" Hermione frowned. "I was talking about _Harry!" _Draco blinked, and looked at her. "Yes, I believe you were."

~*~

__

Harry Apparated back to his apartment a few minutes later. Berna rushed to him, arms outstretched. "That horrible Malfoy person! Lying about how he and Hermione…" she fell into his arms, then, smiling softly, reached up and pushed his messy black hair off his forehead. Berna touched her lips to his before hanging up his cloak for him, and Harry walked into the kitchen without a word.

~*~

__

*** Morning of May 18, 2010 ***

Hermione sighed and stretched in her chair. Rare were the moments like this, when the house was peaceful, with Draco sleeping peacefully upstairs, her morning coffee besid eher, when she could leaf through the morning mail without disturbance. 

She glanced up at the clock. "I should _really _get that fixed…" she murmured to herself. Since the beginning of April, the hand labeled "Harry" had gotten stuck on "home", while Ron's was permanently on "visiting." Draco's seemed to be the only one that worked, as Hermione's was always on "home" as well.

She turned back to her morning mail, expecting nothing too extraordinary, nothing that would make her drop her coffee mug on the floor… 

*crash*

Hermione stared at the paper in her hands, unaware of the hot coffee pooling around her bare feet on the kitchen floor. "Omigod…" she whispered.

**_Appeal for Arrest - Draco Thomason Magnum Malfoy_**

~*~


	7. Don't Tell Me

AN: Hey, I'm working pretty fast, eh? Well, if it weren't for drama class, (and this) I'd be bored out of my skull by now… and who says summer is fun?

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, as well as anything even vaguely familiar from the Harry Potter books. Anything else, however, may be blamed upon me.

Dedicated to: As usual, CharmedHpfanatic, and to all my fellow cast members, you guys made this summer one helluva ride. Too bad we'll never see each other again. *dramatic sigh*

Chapter 7: Don't Tell Me

__

"When you have to cope with a lot of problems

you are either going to sink or you're going to swim"

- Tom Cruise

***Afternoon of May 19, 2010***

Harry looked up from behind his desk, eyes inscrutable behind his rimless glasses. "Hello, Hermione. What do you-" he was cut off when Hermione angrily slammed her fists down on the table, eyes narrowed angrily. "What is _this?!" _she brandished a vaguely familiar piece of paper under Harry's nose.

Harry stared at it. "Hmm… it looks familiar. Must have passed through all this paperwork on my desk… oh, yes. The appeal for Draco's arrest." Hermione glared at him. "Stop being such an arsehole. Why is my husband under an appeal for arrest?" Harry took the paper from her and read it out loud.

"It says here, that he has been charged with this appeal on account of…" Harry cleared his throat, and Hermione saw red. "…use of Dark magic, breaking in and entering, and possession of Dark artifacts, _and _use of the two Unforgivables." He looked up at Hermione calmly. "Hermione, I can show you the signed accounts I received with this appeal, and I can even grant you the permission to search the Malfoy Manor yourself." His eyes glittered. "It's all in the _paperwork, _you know."

Hermione caught her breath. It was a great humiliation to get resigned to paperwork, and Hermione knew that Mad-eye had already let Harry off very easy, but she just didn't expect Harry to be so bitter about it. She tried to calm herself down. "Yes, Harry. Please arrange a permit for a type-4 search of the Malfoy Manor." She held out her hand. "I want to see those accounts."

~*~

Thirty minutes later, Hermione was sitting outside the building where Ministry of Magic papers were processed, in her hands a thick pile of accounts against Draco, all signed, most by occupants of Godric's Hollow.

She riffled through them, shaking her head unbelievingly. "Widow Alden? This is impossible, Draco would never have done this…" A shadow fell across the page she was reading, an account that claimed that Draco had killed her pet fish after subjecting it to the Cruciatus Curse. 

"I knew I'd find you here."

Hermione looked up, her eyes meeting the bright blue ones of Berna Guerrero's. "Hello." Hermione said warily. Berna, who was dressed in a sweet combination of summer khakis and a crisp white shirt, didn't seem very threatening, however. She seated herself beside Hermione, curiosity etched upon her delicate features. "What's that? And why are you so… worried?" 

Hermione held out a few papers to her, deciding to trust her. Berna turned the papers over in her hand, surprised. "Draco did all this?" Hermione glared at her. "No, he didn't! Do you think he did?" Berna glanced down at the papers. "Threatening with various Dark hexes…" She fixed Hermione with a light blue gaze. "It sounds like something he would do if someone ticked him off." 

Hermione took the papers back from Berna, absentmindedly shuffling them. "Draco has a temper, but he's never really let it get so far as to impose the Cruciatus Curse on somebody… and the disturbing thing is… all of these are _signed. _And the supposed 'victims' all say that he really did all of these things." Berna looked only slightly sympathetic. "The media will be having a field day." she remarked, and Hermione replied sourly. "Oh, I do believe so."

Berna got up, her pretty flowered handbag swinging. "Well, why don't you go talk to your… _husband… _about this?" And she walked away.

Hermione considered running after her, but thought the better of it, and Disapparated.

~*~

__

***Evening of May 30, 2010***

*pop!*

"Ouch!"

"Hermione?"

"Draco! What-"

Hermione lay on a crumpled heap on top of Draco, obviously having Apparated into the exact same spot he was standing, in the living room of their apartment. He grinned slightly. Hermione eased off him slowly, and stood up, the papers still in hand. Draco stood up gracefully, smiling. "I was beginning to enjoy that…"

Instead of replying, Hermione held out the papers, which Draco took curiously. A few mintues later, his eyes were narrowed. "What is this?" he asked. Hermione frowned. "Exactly what I'd like to know. It seems that you have been convicted of all… _that." _Draco laughed sourly. "Well, lock me up and throw away the key." Hermione sighed. "Draco, that's exactly what the Ministry of Magic is going to do to you if we don't prove these people wrong!" 

She sat down on the couch. "What do you when I'm not home?" Draco shrugged aimlessly. "Sleep, read… take walks, tap-dance naked on the front lawn if I get bored." In spite of herself, Hermione chuckled. "You need solid proof that you haven't done any of those horrible things written down there… so, I'm going to take a bath and get ready for bed… I'm tired." 

~*~

The steam clouds rose from inside the bath curtain, clouding up the mirror and everything in sight. Hermione sighed as the hot jets of water hit her full-force. She closed her eyes and began to think of who could have placed in that appeal… 

Loud knocking on the bathroom door jolted her out of her troubled thoughts. "Yes, Draco?" she called through the steam. "Um… I have to get my toothbrush." he called back. Hermione smiled. _Here we go again… _"It's above the kitchen sink." 

"Er… yeah. How about toothpaste?" Draco soudned annoyed and hopeful at the same time. Hermione sighed. "Just come in, Draco, and take whatever you want…" The door creaked open, and Hermione could see the vague outline of Draco's bath-robed figure through the sheer shower curtain.

She poured some of the pink shampoo onto her palm… then…

"Draco!"

A shriek of surprise. Draco had pulled open the shower curtain, and was smiling at Hermione. She waved him away, scattering bubbles in the process. "Go away! I'm taking a bath here…"

She squealed when Draco stepped into the shower with her, disrobing as he did. "Hello, Hermione." he murmured in a voice that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. "Draco, I told you to get what you want and get out!" Hermione placed a soaking wet hand on his bare chest and pushed him unconvincingly towards the open door.

He shrugged, and laughingly swept her off her feet, bubbles and all. She shrieked her protests, demanding to be put down. Draco grinned infuriatingly at Hermione. "Exactly, I _wanted _you. So, do we get it on here, or in the bedroom?" Hermione glared at him, but she stopped flailing her arms. "You… you're so… _vulgar!" _

Draco looked hurt. He set her back on her feet, and she doused herself with water, rubbing off the bubbles in her hair. Silently, Draco picked up the peppermint body wash and proceeded to massage Hermione's back. She squirmed, then sighed. "Thanks… I need that…"

After a peaceful minute or two, Draco slid his hands slowly up her neck, tunring her so she faced him. She stared up at him through darkened eyes, and like a child, she raised her face to meet his lips… "Maybe… here." she whispered.

~*~

__

***May 20, 2010***

"This is so stupid… I mean, she says that you broke into her house and took her crystal ball… _and _it was her only source of income!" Hermione burst out angrily, scanning the pages. Draco didn't reply, busily reading the rest of the claims with a furrowed brow. 

Hermione stacked the papers, frowning. "But I don't understand… what _do _you do when I'm not around?" Draco shrugged evasively. "Well, I definitely don't rampage around and burn people's houses to the ground, as this… Artiliou Mulcher claims." Hermione reached across the table, grasping Draco's hand in hers. "No, Draco… tell me _exactly _what you do around the house." The Soul-Keeper colored into a faint raspberry tinged with gray, telling Draco that she was faintly suspicious, but mostly worried.

Draco scowled. "Oh, so you suspect me too?" He pulled away and angrily tossed yesterday's newspaper onto the table. "I won't be able to walk out of this house now without people gawking at me… just like stupid Potter and his stupid scar."

"Oh, Draco… stop it, you're being immature…" Hermione trailed off when she saw the headline of the newspaper. _Last Malfoy about to be Arrested. _"Who wrote this? Oh, damnit, Rita Skeeter… with the help of that asinine daughter of hers… Raine Skeeter." Hermione glared at the moving photograph of an extremely angry Draco waving reporters away. "Draco, when was this taken?" 

"That's the thing, this picture was never taken at all." Draco growled, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. "She's been creating photographs and writing lies to go with them. This woman should be sent to Azkaban… the bitch."

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed them sleepily. "It's two a.m. in the morning… it's too early for all this." Draco nodded. "Let's go."

~*~

In the dark of their closet, at the bottom, in a trunk which held all memorabilia of their years together, was another news article, written by the same journalist.

_Malfoy Dares to Marry Mudblood. _

Draco knew he could have gotten Rita Skeeter into jail for that particular headline. But he preferred to keep quiet, knowing that he could very well get in trouble with the Ministry. Rita Skeeter, years back, had married an extremely powerful member of the Ministry of Magic. This man, who allowed Rita to keep her original name, also happened to be the lead editor of the Daily Prophet. 

The nasty article went on to desribe the wedding as 'extravagantly foolish', Hermione's wedding gown as 'a waste of decent cloth', the flowers as 'wilted', and the bride and the groom as 'a pair of oblivious idiots.' 

No one knew the real reason Draco kept that inclement article… in fact, neither did he.

~*~

Early the next morning, a non-descript barn owl flew into Mad-eye Moody's office, after passing unscathed through the barrage of charms and Dark-detectors that lined his cluttered office. Moody picked the plain scroll up warily, his magical eye sweeping over it quickly. 

"No fingerprints? No traces of any charm or spell?" The Auror snorted. "Boring." He unscrolled it, and as he read, both eyes, magical and real, widened.

~*~

Ginny dashed up to Hermione, who was walking up the drive for daily Auror training. "Did… you h-hear?" she gasped, slapping her knees and trying to catch her breath. Hermione cast a small Breathign Charm on Ginny, and soon, the red-head straightened up, breathing normally, but still with an alramed look on her small face.

"What's wrong Ginny?"

"Mad-eye just received it this morning, and we have absolutely no idea who it's from…"

"What?"

"But it's all concrete proof, and it's all in a legal form, not like the one you got weeks ago…"

"What are you talking about?!"

Ginny stared at Hermione. "The second appeal for Draco's arrest."


	8. Each Man

AN: I have nothing better to do than to write, write and write. Happy now?

Disclaimer: Same as before.

Dedicated to: No one right now.

Chapter 8: Each Man

__

Each man kills the thing he loves.

- Shakespeare

*** June 11, 2010 ***

"You do realize, that if Draco was ever found guilty, _you _would be the one to turn him in?" Mad-eye stared at her, unblinking. She swallowed softly. "But I could never do that…" Moody frowned. "I expected more from you. The appeal states, in a legal manner, that the closest member of the family must turn him in." 

The woman in the shadows fidgeted. "What about his mother?" Moody shook his grizzled head. "Locked herself up in the Manor. And do you think Narcissa's going to do that?" An angry sob emanated from the half-dark of Moody's office. "I can't! And who says we aren't going to win this case?"

Moody sighed gruffly. "There's too much evidence against him… all these signed accounts, _pictures! _There are pictures!" He pushed a stack of wizard photographs across the desk, and the woman picked them up with a trembling hand. "No… no! He could never have done these! This… this is so horrible." 

"You don't have proof that he didn't do all this… and the evidence against him is much too strong." 

"What about the Dark artifacts?"

"We haven't checked into that yet…" Moody admitted. The woman stood up. "I'll go and get a permit from Harry, and I'll be at the Manor later today." She turned to leave, but then, stopped. "Moody, there's no way in hell I'll ever be the one to hand over my own husband to the dementors."

And Hermione walked out of the office, tears on her face, but cold resolve in her heart.

~*~

Harry looked up at her expectantly. "Hello. Come to shout at me again?" Hermione glared at him and held out her hand. "The permit? I asked you to get it ready for me weeks ago!" Harry shrugged. "This _paperwork _is rather hard to manage… but I guess you _Physicals _wouldn't know that." 

(Physicals were what they called the working Aurors in the paperwork side of the building.)

Hermione frowned. "What's wrong with you, Harry?" He stared up at her from his seat behind the cluttered desk. "What do you mean by that?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you know it's extremely rude to answer a question with another question?" Harry thought for a moment, then grinned. "You just did." he pointed out, smiling.

Hermione blinked, then smiled grimly. "Sure. Where's the permit?" Harry handed a scroll to her, along with another, smaller scroll. "What's this?"

Harry shrugged dismissively. "The charges against Draco."

~*~

Hermione walked towards the restaurant where she _always _met Draco for lunch, the scrolls safe in her charmed bag, and thinking distractedly about how different Harry was when he smiled… it was as if the _real _Harry, the one she hadn't seen for months, would break out from behind a mask and shine for her…

She was pulled out of her reverie by a commotion just outside the same restaurant she was going to enter. Hermione stepped back, surprised by the size of the yelling, jeering, gossiping crowd. She frowned. As an Auror… she had a responsibility to control this crowd. Pulling out her wand, she conjured several harmless firecracker bangs that silenced and got the attention of the crowd. 

The turned to face her, and whispers began to buzz through them once more. "What's happening here?" she demanded, hands on her slim hips. Silence, then one impudent teenage witch stepped forward. "Your husband's a criminal!" she announced smugly, and the crowd behind her murmured their nasty approval.

Hermione glared at her. "Innocent until proven guilty. And nothing's been proven yet, so you can just put down your torches and stop mobbing us!" 

The crowd, which had been whispering even more, suddenly parted, and the whispers grew into an angry buzzing. 

Draco himself stepped out from between the glaring townspeople, looking around him mildly. "What's wrong?" he asked Hermione, who was standing quite near him by then. The same teenage witch retorted "You! You're all wrong!" Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is this about Skeeter's article?" The murmuring grew louder, but no one answered his question. 

Hermione sighed angrily. "Come on, let's eat." She took Draco's arm and pulled him inside the restaurant.

~*~

Over two plates of roast beef and mashed potatoes, Hermione dropped the bomb. 

"I'm going over to the Manor later."

Draco looked up, surprised. "Really? But all my clothes and my books… they're all in the apartment… I don't have anything in there anymore." Hermione sighed. "That's what I'm going to prove to the Ministry."

Draco stared at her. "What?" Hermione chose not to reply, instead, she handed him the scroll. Draco's silvery eyes narrowed again. "A permit to search the Manor?" He glared at her. "Oh, so you're suspecting me too?" Hermione's eyes widened. "No, no! I want to be the one to prove that you don't own any Dark artifacts… thus voiding one of the most grievous charges against you!" She pulled out the smaller scroll. "See? The highest one on this list is use of two of the Unforgivables.'" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"The second one is 'possession of dangerous Dark artifacts.' This is the one I plan to void, that's why I'm searching the Manor later." She tucked the scrolls away, after reinforcing the Protection Charms on them. Draco looked at her. "Are you forgetting something, Hermione?" 

She looked up from her peas. "What do you mean?" Draco leaned forward. "I _do _have Dark artifacts in the Manor… _my father's." _he hissed. Hermione squinted, thinking. "Your father… didn't he mark all of his things? I remember, once, back in sixth year, you sneaked a book out of his personal library to lend me, and it had this big black stamp on the front page… with a Latin inscription and Dark symbols all around it." Draco shrugged. "So?"

Hermione smiled at him. "To prove that the Dark objects are _really _yours, you must have your seal on them. What does your seal look like?" Draco blinked, then pulled out his wand. He Transfigured the nearest paper napkin into a short scroll, and then traced a silver shape onto the parchment.

Under his wand, the Draco seal took place. Hermione sucked in her breath. It was a beautiful thing, sinister, but beautiful all the same.

Draco tucked his wand back into his pocket. "There. Given to me at thirteen, and given up at twenty-four." Hermione shot him a strange look, but kept the scroll in her bag nonetheless. Draco picked up a forkful of mashed potatoes and began to eat, slowly and neatly. Hermione watched him expectantly.

"Well?"

"What else do you want, Hermione?"

"Tell me about the Manor."

Draco put down his fork, frowning slightly. "My father would never forgive me." "Your father's dead." Hermione replied brusquely. Draco looked at her as if he had never quite seen anyone like her. "Yes.. I believe he is." he replied slowly.

"Well… he always kept his biggest collection under the drawing-room. It's guarded by a painting and a few hexes that will slice you into bits if you don't know the counterspell. It's _Lucet." _he added helpfully. Hermione had taken out her Dictation Quill, had Draco lick the end, and set it to paper, where it dutifully took down everything he said, but without mangling or corrupting his sentences. (Like Rita Skeeter's had, many years ago.)

"There are a few more relics in his private den, and in his bedroom." Draco grinned. "I believe you may find some rather nasty elf-skins there." Hermione winced. "_House_-_elf _skins." Draco added with relish. She waved at him to continue, and he did. "Mother has some poisons in the cellar, but don't touch those. They aren't extremely potent… she uses them for unwanted late-night visitors. A simple sprinkling of belladonna and witch hazel in their coffee and… _wham!" _He grinned at her, she grimaced back.

"The real poisons are in the armory, behind the largest suit of armor. The one with the dragon on its shield, mind you. The password is _Esconcious. _There's a pretty good collection back there, enough to make any shopkeeper in Knockturn Alley turn green with envy. Evil books? The hidden library. Password is _Erudition._ Hmm… the Hand of Glory is on his bedside table…" Hermione shuddered. "…unless Mother moved it. She could never stand to look at that thing." 

"Charmed and hexed objects in the display room. Evil jewels in the secret chamber behind the display room. _Creatunesions _in the hidden cellar in the floor of the dungeons… password is _Corruption." _

Hermione held up a hand. "What are _creatunesions?" _Draco shrugged matter-of-factly. "Creatures he created himself. Corrupted house-elves, defiled werewolves, beaten and tamed manticores, disjeweled fire-crabs… very dangerous down there. Charm yourself against fire and bodily injury." Hermione swallowed. "_Disjeweled _fire-crabs?" Draco glanced at her. "Fire-crabs that have stripped of their jeweled shells. They become shriveled and bloodthirsty…"

He glanced at the Soul-Keeper, watching it turn a rusty purple. "Hermione… why don't you request for companion Aurors while you search the Manor? It could take all day, and… well," He placed a protective hand over hers. "It's dangerous." Hermione swallowed her fear, and smiled bravely up at him, her eyes glittering brown. The Soul-Keeper faded into an intense golden-red, signifying bravery.

"Draco… they didn't put me in Gryffindor for nothing."

~*~

The minute Hermione touched the heavy brass knocker on the front door, the bracelet on her wrist began to heat up. She glanced down at it, and removed it, thinking _This house if so full of Dark Magic, my wrist will probably be blistered and burnt by the end of this raid._ The door creaked open, and she found herself face to face with a tall ghost dressed in a very antique butler's uniform. "Yes, Madam? What may this humble servant of the esteemed Malfoy family do for you this evening?"

Hermione sniffed. _Esteemed? Sure… _Out loud, however… "Good evening. I would like to conduct a search of this household. This is by the Ministry ordinance, and I ask you to please comply without resistance." The ghost surveyed her critically. "May I ask for identification?" Hermione held out the two scrolls bearing the title as Auror, and the permit to search the Manor. The ghost looked at them, ignoring the name 'Hermione _Malfoy'_, and bowed Hermione into the house. "If Madam will please have a seat, I will inform Madam Malfoy of your presence. Thank you very much." 

Hermione sat down on the stiff leather couch, glancing around her warily. She had been on the Malfoy grounds only once, and that was when she stood outside in the garden waiting for Draco to come out of the house. 

A house-elf ran up to her, and in a high, but refined voice, asked her if she wanted a drink. Hermione, remembering Draco's story about the belladonna and the witch hazel, politely refused. A rustling of silk and a derisive sniff announced Narcissa Malfoy's arrival. 

"What brings you here, Madam?" Narcissa asked coolly. Hermione noted her obvious refusal to call her Madam _Malfoy. _"Good evening, Madam." Hermione replied calmly. "I plan to conduct a search of this house, and I would like to ask if you would be willing to accompany me-" "No…" Narcissa broke in, surveying Hermione's casual attire with distaste. "What is your _real _reason?" Narcissa seated herself on a chair right across Hermione's, and Hermione felt the coldness of that gaze, in striking contrast to the increasing heat of her bracelet. 

"Money? Are you lacking in income?" Narcissa sneered contemptuously. "A place to reside in, perhaps? For what have you come begging to my door? What can filth like you want from me now?" Hermione stared at her incredulously, unbelievingly. "I've come on Ministry business. This is nothing personal… nothing to do with you, or the fact that your son is my _husband." _Hermione spat.

Narcissa hardly flinched. She glared at Hermione coldly. After what seemed an eternity, with Narcissa's icy grey eyes boring into her skin, and the bracelet in her pocket giving off intense heat, and Hermione trying desperately not to blink or give in, the blonde woman raised her wand. Hermione stepped back into a defensive pose, wand raised and ready. Narcissa smirked, bringing back days of Hogwarts and the old Draco.

"I am not about to hurt you, however my heart longs for it. I am simply going to cast a Screening Charm on you, ensuring you do not bring any…" Narcissa's smirk grew wider. "squalor into my home." Hermione glared distrustfully at her, but allowed Narcissa to throw a blue mist at her.

When Hermione blinked her eyes open, she was seeing everything through a soft haze of blue. This, she kenw, was the effect of the Screening Charm. However, as she got up and went to follow Narcissa out of the sitting-room, something was nagging at the back of her head. Like something incredibly important that she had forgotten.

~*~

They walked through the silent stone manor in silence, Hermione glancing warily around her. She had asked Narcissa to bring her to the drawing-room, and she expected Narcissa to react, or even refuse. Instead, the impossibly pale woman stared at her for a few moments, then silently turned and led the way.

The minute they entered the drawing-room, Hermione slapped a hand over the red-hot bracelet in her pocket. She whispered a small Cooling Spell over it, and the heat dissipated gradually. Narcissa turned to Hermione, raising a graceful arm. "Search all you want." she whispered, cold steel in her voice.

Hermione walked straight up to the painting on the wall, glancing only briefly at the beautiful young man on it, before whispering _Lucet. _The wall slid open, and once again, Hermione had to reinforce the Cooling Spell on her Dark-Detecting bracelet. 

Around her lay large, neat piles of nasty-looking artifacts, all glaring up at her as if to dare her to defy them and turn them in to the Ministry of Magic. She stared at them, uncertain of which to examine first.

She decided on a small corner, where smaller objects lay undisturbed. A nondescript crystal ball, some metal rods… they sat on a table beside a pair of black and white dragonhide gloves, the dust thick on their bull surfaces. Hermione moved towards them, but a cold voice stopped her from picking up the largest black rod. 

"I suggest, if you sincerely want to keep all five fingers of your filthy Mudblood hand intact, that you refrain from handling those without dragonhide gloves." Hermione whirled around. Narcissa leaned elegantly against the wall, surveying her with a nasty, amused smile. 

Hermione mentally slapped herself. _What is wrong with me? Forgetting my gloves, honestly! This is the stupidest thing that I could ever have done… _Her senses seemed dull, and she blamed it on her nerves. 

She continued on, occasionally examining an object that caught her eye, but this time, wearing her heavy-duty Graphorn hide gloves. The seals on every single one of the objects were exactly the same, and they looked oddly familiar, but Hermione took those down as Lucius Malfoy's own seal. 

Three hours passed, and all poisons, weapons, artifacts, and 'curious objects' that Hermione had found inside the Malfoy Manor all bore the same seal… a silver dragon with black thorns twined around it's tail. Hermione grinned at the sight of those. _Ah, we've got Lucius Malfoy now! If only Mr. Weasley was here… _

Finally, as she stood at the doorway, she turned to talk to Narcissa one last time. "Thank you." she said coldly. "And Ministry officials shall be here tomorrow morning to collect your…" Hermione hesitated. "late husband's belongings." She turned away, pulling her cloak around her, but once more, Narcissa's voice froze her in her tracks.

"My late husband's belongings?" Narcissa laughed softly. "I believe all that you have seen here tonight belongs to _your _husband… not mine." 

Hermione turned to reply, but something suddenly hit her. She yanked Draco's scroll out of her bag. Unrolling it, the truth stared up at her with malevolent green eyes.

Draco's seal, the silver dragon with thorns on its tail.


	9. Pieces

AN: I'm lusting after someone. Rawr! *snickers evilly* Just kidding. One heck of an eye-catcher, eh?

Disclaimer: I don't own squat crap. *grr…*

Dedicated to: Certain people.

Chapter 9: Pieces

__

Such is agony

As drives a woman to hate

The fruit of her womb.

- Haiku, Original Poetry

"What you have done was something unheard of, uncalled for, and probably illegal." Moody stared at Hermione's pallid face, unblinking. Hermione nodded. "However, I understand, and I am willing to allow it." Hermione nodded again, then stared at Moody as if seeing him for the first time.

"It's impossible." she whispered. Moody shook his head. "No, it's not. It is not surprising for any Malfoy to own any Dark Arts item, however small, or harmless-looking." Moody stood up and began to pace the room, wooden leg clunking with every other step. "But _these _items…" he waved a heavily gloved hand towards the pile of evil-looking objects hidden under a charmed cloak of Restrainance. "… are neither small, or harmless." 

He looked back at Hermione, who was sitting very still and silent. "Why did you request Mr. Potter's assistance in recovering the items?" he growled softly. Hermione looked at him through tear-filled eyes. "I couldn't believe it anymore. I just couldn't believe that…" her breath caught in her chest, and she paused a while before plunging on. "Draco owns all those…" Moody unscrolled a parchment and showed it to her. "This is Draco Malfoy's personal seal… and it was found on every single item that you had brought out of Malfoy Manor. All other items found in the house were unmarked."

A look of determination swept over Hermione's face, and she stood up, gathering her scrolls. "I'm going home, Moody. My husband would want to talk to me." She stopped, and held out a hand to Moody. "Thank you." Moody shook it and gruffly dismissed her.

When she Disapparated, he walked back to his desk, picking up the pile of photographs. 

~*~

"That is just fucking impossible!" Draco growled, banging the table with his fist. "Please! Calm down! I know it's impossible, but it's impossible to prove it wrong as well…" Hermione pleaded. 

They were in the kitchen, and Hermione had just broken the news about the seals to Draco.

"My father sealed each one of _his _items with _his _seals. I was never allowed to touch any one of his Dark items… he even had my mother charm each and every one of them to burn my hands if I did." Draco's eyes had narrowed into silver slits. "I was _never fucking allowed _to use my bloody seal!" he hissed venomously, and for the first time in their married life, Hermione was afraid of her husband.

"Damnit all! I'm going up to bed…" he stalked up the stairs, leaving Hermione with a broken vase and tears in her eyes.

Hours later, Hermione climbed into bed, beside Draco, who seemed asleep. But when she lay down on the bed facing away from him, she felt strong arms encircle her waist, and a soft voice whisper in her ear "I'm sorry." She turned over in bed, and laid a hand softly on his cheek, which was slightly damp. "Draco… I made you cry." she whispered. He took his hand in hers. "I'm so scared… what if it's all true?"

Hermione took him in her arms, like a child that needed comforting. "It's not true, Draco… you're here, and you're definitely not guilty. Believe me. Please."

~*~

The next day found Hermione sitting at her desk, poring over thick books on wizard law. It also found Draco beside her, chin in hands, flipping lazily through thin books with titles like _How to Make Sure They're Telling The Fecking Truth. _

A week passed, and in that time, the couple absorbed everything they could about law. Hermione's Soul-Keeper was mostly gray, occasionally darkening to purplish (scared), or yellow, which would be "relieved."

~*~

***July 27, 2010***

Harry smiled at her. "Hey." Hermione looked at him warily. "What is it, Harry?" Harry frowned briefly, before switching back to his disarming smile. "I've got something to show you… but it really isn't good news." Hermione's Soul-Keeper flickered to a dark olive-green, signifying suspicion. "Why are you smiling, then?"

Harry stopped smiling, and his eyes glittered coldly. "Happy now?"

He unceremoniously dropped a slip of parchment onto her desk, and walked out without another word. Hermione picked it up curiously.

**__**

Official Warrant for Arrest - Draco Thomason Magnum Malfoy

Headed by: Narcissa Kailine Malfoy

~*~

Draco shrugged sadly. "I thought so." Hermione stared at him through hysterical tears. "What do you mean you thought so?! She's you own _mother!" _Draco took her in his arms, trying to placate her. "Exactly."

~*~

Ginny held up the two scrolls. "This is the appeal… and this is the warrant. The appeal was anonymous, but accompanied by extremely heavy evidence against Draco, including photographs, and signed accounts by witnesses and victims." Hermione snorted angrily. Ginny continued. "This warrant however, was permitted by Narcissa Malfoy, in accordance to the appeal." She put the scrolls down and looked to Draco.

"It's kind of like a chicken and the egg theory. Without the appeal, the warrant would not have evidence to back it up. Without the warrant, the appeal would have become invalid. It's almost as if… people are plotting against you." Ginny told him. Draco frowned. "Ah, now is the conspiracy of the _We Hate Pale Blond Good-Looking English Wizards Ladies Club, _of which, my mother is the president_." _

Nobody laughed.

~*~

Hermione's Soul-Keeper was now permanently purplish, and she seemed pale and weak. Draco, on the other hand, seemed vehemently silent, but his eyes burned furiously with silver fire. They were a couple that people liked to avoid.

Finally, Hermione, who could take it no longer, confronted Draco.

~*~

"Draco…" Their eyes met, hers bright with tears, his narrowed. "The truth can be a painful thing." he whispered. Hermione grabbed his hands. "Did you know that you will be thrown into jail without trial?!" Draco nodded. "Then why aren't you doing anything about it?" 

Hermione's voice had reached a high-pitched shriek. Draco took her in his arms. "Hermione… I have no choice. The Malfoy name has already been corrupted beyond reason, and no one trusts us anymore. If it weren't for the fact that my beautiful wife is a respected Auror, they would already be spitting on me on the streets." He held her away and looked into her eyes. "Azkaban is no longer avoidable for me."

Hermione scrubbed away her tears angrily. "Don't you know that if worst comes to worst, _I'll _be the one locking you up in Azkaban!" Draco closed his eyes, his chest rising in deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, they were brimming with fire unknown. "I know. And when I really have to be thrown into prison, I'd rather it was you, than anybody else."

It was only weeks after that Hermione realized that Draco had said "_when" _and not "_if." _

~*~


	10. Sealer Of The Gate

AN: Okay, got stuck on a bit of writer's block back there… got over it, thank god. But waitaminute, is it a bit too much to ask for reviews? *sad sigh* Here's the greatest bout of angst ever.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Just borrowing them for a little fun. Other citations will be made where necessary. 

Dedicated to: CharmedHpfanatic, who can't stand angst, so this goes to her, and to Catherine, who "eep"-ed out loud when I told her this part of the story. And last, but not least, to Mr. Sixtoes, my inspiration so far.

Chapter Ten: The Sealer of the Gate

__

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive

- Iris, Googoo Dolls

Hermione shut her eyes and listened to the sound of the world crumbling to pieces around her. _It sounded like someone breathing, _she thought numbly. _Like ragged, harsh gasps. _It occurred to her that someone _was _breathing in short gasps… Draco.

He stood behind her, looking pale, small, weak and afraid in the prison robes of thick gray material. He looked almost indefinite, like Hermione could reach out with one trembling finger, touch his pale cheek, and shatter him into a thousand shards, irreparably broken.

The Minister of Magic, Romelio Fudge, raised his wand and without ceremony, signed the parchment in front of him, sealing Draco's, and Hermione's fate forever.

Hermione opened her eyes, and felt the world crumble away once more.

~*~

Voices… above her… whispering, in hushed tones.

"She can't…. emotionally unstable."

"She must… law… rules."

"Wait for her."

Another voice, so heartbreakingly familiar. "Hermione."

She blinked. And the voices increased tenfold.

"She's awake."

"Get the prisoner ready. Lock the bonds."

"Is the cell ready?"

The voice came again, waking her, making her sit up and reach out to a young man who wasn't there. "Hermione… wake up."

"Draco." she whispered, and the sound of her voice was harsh to her own ears. 

Someone gripped her, and she opened her eyes blearily.

"Miss Malfoy… you fainted." It was Mad-Eye Moody, and he looked slightly worried. "I… I'm fine." Hermione stood up shakily, but the events that happened before she fainted rushed back, and her knees went weak.

"Draco? Where's Draco?!" she shrieked hysterically. Moody pointed towards a holding room, and tried to placate her. "We cannot officially… _incarcerate _the criminal yet…" Hermione paled. "Don't call him that!" she grabbed Moody's hand imploringly, but he shook his grizzled head and finished his sentence.

"We cannot officially incarcerate the criminal yet. We need you for that."

Hermione gasped, and the tears flowed down her face. "No, I can't… you can't… why?" she breathed. Moody looked almost sorry for her. "The trial ended officially. Draco Malfoy should be in Azkaban by… three in the afternoon, or the Killing Curse is performed." Hermione swallowed back her scream.

"What time is it?" she asked in a dry whisper. Moody stared at the sundial on the front lawn. "You have thirty minutes, Miss Malfoy."

~*~

__

Thirty minutes… is that so hard? Thirty minutes… and the walk to the cell takes only five minutes, Hermione… A voice floated through her head, sweet and cajoling.

"But why me?"

"_The warrant stated that the closest in terms of family must be the official Gate-Sealer."_

"My husband… he's my husband… I can't."

"_You can't… but you must. You must."_

"No… please, don't make me. And he's innocent! He's innocent!"

_"Maybe he is, and maybe he isn't. But this you know for sure. He dies in thirty minutes, whether innocent or not."_

"Please… don't."

"_Azkaban. Seal the Gates. Imprison him. Now."_

Hermione blinked. Her tears were dry, and she was on her feet. Unsteadily, she walked over to the room where Draco was bound. She lifted her Auror's badge, the badge she was so proud of, and the door flew open, revealing two guards armed with two wands each, and Draco.

Draco. So handsome, so pale… so fragile. He stared at her with eyes of broken starlight, wondering what to say. The eloquent Draco, who got by with his words of charm and wit, was for once, speechless.

"Hermione…" and he smiled, so weakly.

"Draco… please. Don't make this any harder than it's supposed to be. Its either this, or death. Please understand…" Hermione closed her eyes, unbelieving at her own lies, and turned away, beckoning to the guards.

They followed, casting Draco along on magical bindings that rendered him mute and without physical strength for the next twenty-four hours.

Hermione walked on, and she reached the gates of Azkaban. A breath, a sigh, and a slump of the shoulders. She raised her wand to open the gates, then stopped.

She turned around, to Draco, whose head was bowed, seemingly accepting his fate. 

"I want you to know… that this is hardest day of my life." she whispered. His head remained bowed, and his eyes remained hidden in shadow. "I want you to know, that I still love you, and I always will… forever, whether you're in Azkaban, or a free man." her voice choked up, and the guards looked on blandly. 

"I want you to know that there's _hope. _And that's what matters." she reached out, and took his hand. Draco looked up, and in his eyes burned a fire unlike any Hermione had ever seem before. Without a word, he drew her close for a last kiss. 

Hermione closed her eyes against the blinding beauty of it all, the heartbreaking simplicity of her husband's last goodbye. The only way he could say farewell with the Muting Charm sealing his lips. She closed her eyes against the breaking of her heart, against the painful thought that nagged at her, telling her that it was like some sappy movie. She closed her eyes against the salt tears on her face, hers and Draco's, mixing in some bitter cocktail of emotion.

She wanted this forever, the warmth of his mouth against hers, his hands pressed gently against her back, his heart beating against hers… but the guards pulled them apart, and even movie moments end, in their own sweet time.

His eyes met hers, and in them, she read everything she needed to know. _This man was innocent. _But there was no way to prove that.

The gates of Azkaban swung open, and they walked in, to the cacaphony of moans from the pitiful creatures that were once people.

Draco's new cellmates.

~*~

She was numb once more. The kiss seemed to have been sealed deep inside of her, into her Soul-Keeper, which, interestingly enough, had turned bright orange-red, the color of determination. 

Draco stood inside the cell, still bound, eyes downcast again, listening helplessly as Moody and Hermione intoned the Gate-Sealing Spell, the spell that would keep him locked in that cell for as long as they intended it to be. In this case… forever.

Finally, one last whispered word, and one blinding flash of light, and the Gate was Sealed. And so was Draco's fate.

Moody clapped a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and gruffly told her that he'd be walking on ahead.

However, the greater magic had canceled out the effect of the Muting Charm, and as Hermione turned to go, her face blank and impassive, Draco opened his mouth.

~*~

Every step she took, away from the cell where her beloved was lying, bewildered and miserable, seemed like an entire marathon. Her demeanor was calm and collected, yet inside, a scream of rage and pained hysteria was clawing it's way out. 

She took in a shuddering breath, and Hermione's vision began to blur, and the dementors turned their blank hoods towards her, sensing the pain and weakness in the human being. Behind her came a weak voice, and she slowly turned around. She didn't want this. She didn't want to have to face her husband again… after what she just did to him… sealing his fate, an utter disgrace.

  
Draco was grasping the bars and looking at her, and _he was smiling_. Smiling weakly, yes, but it was a smile of bewildered benevolence, an innocent smile that reache dinto the depths of your soul and squeezed your heart, that choked up your throat and filled your eyes with tears.

"Hermione, darling... what is this? This is all a silly joke, isn't it? You're going to leave me here to stew for a few hours, then come marching back in like the G.I. Jane you are," Hermione's eyes filled with fresh tears. "and laugh with me. Darling, this is all some kind of joke... You know that. Come on, let me out, I'm freezing." 

He fixed her with his gaze, through silvery gray eyes filled with tears. "It's all a joke. I'm right. I'm always right. True?" His lips tried to curve upwards again, he feebly tried to make the Draco shine through, yet the dementors were beginning to affect him, and the night screaming had begun. 

"Please let me out, now, 'Mione. It's cold in here. Come on, and we can go eat dinner."

The promises of a home now broken, the last confused clutchings at a life he could never have again. He was scrabbling on to what was once there, dazed by this injustice and humiliation.

Hermione faced him, the grief spilling out through her tears. "Draco," she choked "It's no joke, and it's no lie. You're not going to stay there for a few hours... darling... it's going to be…" her voice dropped to an anguished whisper. "…much, much longer than that. I have to go, and..." she reached out towards him, but the dementors moved closer, and the frigid cold swept through her. 

"Draco, please believe me... I love you." 

And unable to bear the misery any longer, she turned and fled, trying to ignore his wistful words, calling to her... "Hermione, please! I love you… don't… leave me."

~*~

And the gates slammed shut behind her.

She crumpled to the ground, the tears choking her, half-blind with the pain and the realization of what she had just done. _She had just killed her husband. She had just betrayed him and everything they had believed in. _

She screamed, then, a scream of remorse, and guilt and suffering. A scream begging for forgiveness, for release, and for Draco.

_"Draco!"_

~*~

She vaguely remembered someone rushing to her side, gathering her up in his arms, and shouting angrily for someone to "get help". She remembered reaching out for Draco, and finding someone else there instead, someone so familiar, and then again, maybe not.

A stranger in her best friend's body. Someone… not Draco…

And then there was blackness. Sweet, blessed black.


	11. Healing

AN: I'm writing fast here. Most probably to make up for that period of illiteracy. Haha.

Disclaimer: I'm just screwing around with J.K. Rowling's characters. Most especially with Draco… mmm. *blinks* Sorry, got carried away. I don't own anything here except the plot and all unfamiliar nouns you may come across.

Dedicated to: Whoever wants to review! 

Chapter Eleven: Healing

__

She was no longer wrestling with the grief, 

but could sit down with it as a lasting companion 

and make it a sharer in her thoughts.

- George Eliot

Hermione could remember that day, but vaguely. It was sometime in July, wasn't it? She remembered the sour feeling of fear and guilt at the back of her throat, the horror of what she was made to do… and with a sad, wrenching feeling in her stomach, she remembered their last kiss.

She never visited Draco in Azkaban. She felt that she was… emotionally unprepared. 

But a year had come and gone, and still, the _Visitors _registry outside the forbidding walls of Azkaban remained unsigned with Hermione's name. In fact, it remained completely unsigned. After all, who wanted to visit these pathetic creatures, the outcasts of society, the ones left for dead, the ones forgotten by the outside world.

Hermione's memory of that day faded out slowly near the end, like the way some songs end, fading until you have to strain your ears to catch the music, without realizing that the music was already gone.

She remembered Sealing the cell door, as Draco watched helplessly from behind the bars. She remembered the haunted look in his eyes as he reached out and called to her, pleading with her to take him back to sanity, to restore his consciousness… to let him love again. He was calling for his innocence, screaming out against the lies that put him there in the first place.

Draco had looked into her eyes and called her his "G.I. Jane", restoring fond, if not so welcome, memories of the time she had introduced him to the Muggle heroine. He had stretched out his hand to her, and she obscurely remembered thinking that "Only Draco could manage to look so beautiful in prison robes" before whispering her last farewell, and her last profession of love, before running for the door like the coward that she was.

Her memory dims here. The blind rush through the stone corridors of the dreadful place, on top of all her grief, and her anger, and bewilderment, was Draco's voice, calling to her, innocently asking her why she put him in there, and could she let him out because it was time for dinner. 

How her heart had ached at that. Draco never missed dinner. It was his favorite meal of the day, he always told her. He wanted good food for dinner, it was a Malfoy tradition. 

It pained her to know that Draco was still sane. She knew it would have been so much easier if he had thrown himself at the bars, screamed at her to let him the bloody fucking hell out, growled curses at her, and thrown a tantrum, ending with seclusion and a Stunner. 

But no. He had to go and ask for his dinner.

It was too heartbreaking. The sad innocence in those dim grey eyes, the strange acceptance, reluctant admittance that… yes, he was behind bars. And yes, he was going to stay there forevermore.

And yes, he still loved her.

~*~

***June 11, 2010***

Hermione shuddered, drawing her hand back across her eyes. The memories were still there, but time had mellowed the pain, easing it into a slow ache. She glanced around the apartment she called home, taking comfort in the little articles that reminded her of the life she had begun. 'Starting over." she called it.

"Would you like another cup of tea, Hermione?" he called from the kitchen. Hermione smiled slightly. "Yes… thank you." He came out, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, carrying two cups in his hands. He set them down in front of her and poured out the tea, adding a slice of lemon.

Hermione smiled at him, and he nodded back, disappearing into the kitchen. 

A sip of the tea. Hermione made a face. _Jasmine. _She hated this tea. _Draco used to brew me Earl Grey… _she stopped. Thinking about Draco was like stabbing herself in the heart. 

"So, Hermione, what are you planning to do on your birthday?"

Hermione started. She stared up at the calendar. _Her birthday… in 10 days… _

"Oh, I don't know, Harry… what do you think we should do?"

***June 21, 2010***

Miles away, on an Unplottable piece of island, in the depths of the strongest wizard prison history has ever created, a young man named Draco Malfoy woke with a start.

"Hermione." he whispered. "Happy birthday."

~*~

"Hermione!" he yelled. "Happy birthday!" Ron enveloped Hermione in a brotherly hug. Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock. "You Apparated all the way here?! For my birthday?! Oh, Ron! Parvati!" Parvati walked in, kissed Hermione on the cheek, handed her a gift-wrapped present, and exclaimed over her Soul-Keeper, all in one blow.

Berna, who was still in a relationship with Harry, appeared as well, looking tired and pale, but still lively enough to set the table and hang around for the better part of the party.

Harry, who was sitting on the couch, stood up and grinned at Ron, then almost immediately sat down again and began to nurse his glass of Cabaret. Ron grinned back and disappeared into the kitchen to prepare what Hermione called "the party victuals."

~*~

"What do you like, peanuts or walnuts?" Ron called from the kitchen. Hermione looked up from her game of wizard chess with Parvati, who seemed to have been taking tutorials from Ron. "Umm… it doesn't really make a difference."

"Oh, yes it does! Peanuts have a finer, saltier taste, while walnuts tend towards more full-bodied…" Ron continued to ramble, and loud crashes were heard from behind the closed kitchen door. Parvati smiled at Hermione. "Oh, you got him going. Just say peanuts. Its safer." And with a conspiratorial wink, she returned to the game.

Berna stood up, smiled at Hermione, and announced that she was leaving… due to certain circumstances. Harry glanced up at her, and wordlessly accompanied her to the door, where they could be seen snogging like the world was ending.

Hermione sighed, smiling. 

~*~

He stared out the barred window, cursing the Darkening Charm that blocked the moonlight from shining in. He looked up at the stars, reminiscing about that night, which seemed like ages ago, when he had asked her a riddle and proposed to her at the same time. 

He knew she'd like it that way.

Draco leaned his head against the cold stone. "If you only knew… Hermione…" he whispered in a voice cracked from disuse. "You're the only thing keeping me alive."

~*~

Hermione lay back on the couch and lazily flicked a candy wrapper off the floor and into the trashcan with a clever Banishing Charm. Behind her, Harry laughed softly. "Bravo. The cleaning-up crew has arrived." Hermione smiled a tired sort of smile. "Oh, shut up and help me clean up."

Silence. Then two hands, warm and gentle, rested themselves on her shoulders, and began to knead, ever so gently. "Mmm…" Hermione closed her eyes and let Harry massage her shoulders, reveling in the simple pleasure. "That feels…" His hands moved up her neck, and Hermione leaned forward. Into her hair, gently stroking her fine facial bones.

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Harry…" she whispered. Unexpectedly, in a slow, deliberate gesture that left her heart pounding, Harry leaned forward and kissed her on the neck, right below her ear. "Harry… don't…" she weakly protested, but the apple wine and the festivities had left her tired and quite drunk, a combination dangerous to deal with. "Ron and Parvati…" she whispered, trying vainly to pull away, but Harry held her with a grip gentle, but firm.

"They're asleep… upstairs…" Harry whispered, and the warmth of his mouth sent electric shivers down her spine. "Berna…" the clarity of that thought almost made Hermione shove Harry away, but Harry did something incredibly interesting to her ear, and her protest became a long, drawn-out sigh of drunken pleasure. His mouth moved down her neck, and Hermione felt her knees, and her resolve go weak. 

With dazed, blurry, and half-closed eyes, she watched as he moved in front of her, sitting across her on the couch, removing his glasses, placing them on the table, and fixing her with a stare so intense, that Hermione was left speechless.

Finally, she whispered. "I'm drunk." He grinned. "And I'm Harry." She stared at him, then leaned forward, pressing her lips to his with an urgency that startled even her. She felt his lips part under hers, heard her own breathing grow ragged and short, marveled at the burning desire kindled inside her with one kiss…

The night was theirs for the taking.

~*~

Ron was startled awake later that evening. He shook his wife awake as well, motioning for her to be silent. Parvati rubbed her eyes and listened hard. A slow blush crept over her cheeks as she recognized the noises coming from downstairs. Ron stared at her, one eyebrow raised. "That isn't what I think it is, is it, Parvati?"

"Wait, Ron… should Hermione be… doing that?" Parvati sounded worried. "Why not?" Ron simply sounded sleepy. "I mean, there was the whole Draco business…" Parvati tried to block out the moans traveling up the staircase and into their ears. Ron shrugged it off. "Oh, Harry wants a little fun, and Draco's… not… here."

Parvati shook her head at her sleeping husband, and closed her eyes and went to sleep as well, thinking: _It's really none of my business anyway._

~*~

But that certainly didn't seem like "a little fun." Within two weeks, Harry had moved into Hermione's apartment, despite Berna's half-hearted protests. Hermione seemed quite happy with that decision, despite the controversy that began to arise.

~*~

"Hermione! Will you look at this?!" Ginny Weasley, her face red enough to match her hair, brandished the latest _Daily Skeeter Screamer _under Hermione's nose. Hermione took it from her, and stared disbelievingly at the twelve-inch high headline. 

__

The Playboy-Who-Lived.

"Are you letting that… that _cow _get away with that?" Ginny fumed, hands on her hips. "She has absolutely no right to butt in on your private life like that…" she continued to rant, much to the detriment of the bystanders.

Hermione waited until Ginny cooled off, and she calmly began to explain that Harry had moved in with her only as a friend, and as a help around the house. "Look at that… _It seems that the recently married Hermione Granger Malfoy has found another boytoy, right after the incarceration of her husband, the infamous Death Eater and Voldemort's heir, Draco Malfoy." _

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, and Ginny smiled faintly.

"How dare she talk about Draco like that!" Ginny reread the article. "Death Eater… Voldemort's heir… Voldemort's been dead all…" Ginny broke off at the closed look that had appeared on Hermione's face. "I'm sorry… about this whole Draco business…"

Hermione nodded, and smiled as Ginny walked away.

She walked home as well, clutching the crystal pendant around her neck.

__


	12. SelfDoubt

AN: Okay, I'm sorry. I got entangled in _Better Man. _Hehe... and for all you out there who don't like Hermione... hey, try and be a bit understanding. Poor girl's going through a crisis... and for all you know, she was sexually frustrated. *grin!*

Disclaimer: I have a feeling J.K. Rowling would go into cardiac arrest if she ever wandered onto ff.net. 

Dedicated to: All the sexy people who reviewed! *mrawr!* I love you guys.

Chapter 12: Self-Doubt

__

We cease loving ourselves if no one loves us.

- Random quote.

***July 3, 2010***

Hermione stood in the middle of her living-room, watched Harry magically float his trunk in, and mentally asked herself what she had done with her life. 

Harry, who set his trunk down at the foot of the stairs, looked up at her and caught her gaze. Hermione, taken by surprise, smiled immediately. Harry smiled back, and pretended to wipe imaginary sweat off his forehead as he floated the trunk all the way up the stairs.

Hermione waited until the click of the bedroom door had echoed down the stairwell before turning to go into her kitchen. As she walked into the familiar, blue-painted walls, she disentangled her fingers from the silver chain around her neck.

~*~

***August 2010***

"So, m'love, what do we eat for dinner tonight?" Harry slid into the chair across her, grinning widely. Hermione glanced at him. "What would you like?" 

Harry leaned back and looked out the window, where a steady August rain was beginning to fall. "Hmm... something warm and homey... how about a simple steak?" Hermione got up and headed to the kitchen. "Yes. And mashed potatoes... gravy..." As she passed Harry, his slender hand reached out and caught hers.

She stopped. Looked down at him looking up at her with bright eyes. A fragment of forever passed, and Harry pulled her gently down to him, kissing her softly.

Hermione closed her eyes, but then, just that, it was over. Harry let go of her, and smiling softly, nodded towards the open kitchen door. Hermione smiled back and walked to the stove, where she closed the door behind her and broke down into bitter tears.

~*~

"Moody's been asking about you."

"Mm... I'm still on an official leave of absence, remember?"

"Hermione, it's been more than a year since... ah... the incarceration, and we need good hands."

"Mmhm. I'll see."

Harry removed his cloak and hung it up beside the door. He glanced at Hermione, and walked over to her, slipping his arms around her waist, and burying his face at the back of her neck.

"What are you doing, m'love?"

"Taking down these pictures."

Harry raised his head and looked up to watch her remove the Fastening Spells that kept the pictures magically attached to the wall. He noted, with some degree of satisfaction, that she was taking down every picture that had Draco in it.

"Malfoy." he said quietly, kissing the back of her neck. 

"I don't know why I haven't taken these down before. I mean, I should have done this earlier... it just hurts, you know, seeing him so happy, so _alive... _when..."

"Hermione, m'love, you're babbling."

She twisted around in his arms, clutching her wand tightly, and he could see the tears sparkling in her eyes. 

"You don't understand."

He was silent. Then. "Oh yes I do."

He kissed her, then, tasting the salt of her tears and the warmth of her mouth. 

But to tell the truth, he didn't understand. _How could he?_

~*~

The pictures were gone the next day. 

In fact, almost everything that even hinted that a Draco Malfoy once walked the corridors of that house was gone, tucked away in a trunk sealed with Unbreakable Spells, and the pain of Hermione's grief.

That August afternoon, while the orange leaves blew on outside on the fingers of cold winds, Hermione sat on her soft blue couch, glanced around the house, and wondered just how much it had changed. Just how much _she _had changed.

_You seem so... empty lately. _Ginny's words echoed back to her, accompanied by a chill breeze blowing in from an open window. 

_I don't know... you don't seem ... up to things, if you know what I mean... _

Ginny had noticed that Hermione still wore the Soul-Keeper, though she never mentioned it. Ginny was a tactful girl, but when Hermione would "space-out" during the times they would go out for lunch together, she had to take steps.

Hermione closed her eyes, curled up tighter against the increasingly chilly breeze at her window, and recalled the day Ginny had finally told her the truth.

_Walking in the May sunshine... the year after Draco had been imprisoned._

"Hey, where do you want to eat for lunch, Hermione?" Ginny looked especially pretty that day, walking jauntily beside her best friend. Hermione, on the other hand, looked pale and thin... _widow's weeds... _Ginny thought sadly.

"How about ... here?" Ginny stopped in front of a random restaurant. Hermione glanced up at the sign and immediately shook her head. "That's where Draco and I used to meet everyday for lunch..." she whispered. Ginny, realizing her mistake, stepped quickly away from the restaurant, taking Hermione's hand and leading her away, remarking that there were a lot more restaurants along the Alley, but Hermione stopped dead.

Her Soul-Keeper glowed red-orange under her drab gray turtleneck. "No. Let's eat here."

In the restaurant, Hermione couldn't seem to stop talking about how Draco loved the roast beef there, and when the waitress came along, she ordered exactly that. Throughout the meal, she kept babbling on about Draco ... until Ginny thought she would scream.

"Hermione." Ginny said softly, reaching across the table. Hermione stopped in the middle of a story of how Draco had waited for three hours just to see her again. "Yes?"

"I know this is very hard for you, going through all this..." Ginny stopped, and tried to find the right words. "... but you aren't going to make it any easier on yourself, and on us, if you keep trying to call back what was once there and isn't anymore." 

She sucked in her breath and watched Hermione carefully. Finally, Hermione sighed softly and withdrew her hand from Ginny's. "I know." she said quietly, looking down at her barely touched roast beef. Ginny kept silent...

_The meal ended in silence, and Hermione walked home with the empty space in her heart throbbing painfully._

On the couch, Hermione took one more glance around her once-familiar living room. At the empty spaces on the walls where his pictures used to hang. At the coat rack where he always hung up his sleek black leather coat every night. The coffee spot on the table beside her where he always... _always _set down his coffee mug. 

He was as much a part of this house as Hermione was herself... and he was just as much a part of Hermione. 

_And what am I trying to do? Tear him away from me? _

She felt the tears, those stupid, weak tears, prickling the back of her eyes. 

_I can't do that. He _is _me._

The sounds of her sobbing could be heard throughout the empty house. 

Night fell, and Hermione finally got up and closed the window.

~*~

***September 3, 2010***

"Harry."

"Yes, m'love?"

He looked especially happy tonight. 

"Why are you so..."

"Happy?"

"Yes."

He smiled jauntily at her, and moving in one swift motion, swept her into his arms. She gasped, and scrabbled to hold onto his neck. Harry carried her over to the couch. 

"Today is the day I broke up with Berna and moved in with you. Well, say two months fast forward." he leaned forward to kiss her, but Hermione moved away. 

"Berna." she said.

He looked disappointed. "What about her?"

Hermione stood up from the couch, avoiding his gaze. "Oh, nothing. Why don't I drop her a line, say hello... she still lives in your apartment, right?" She moved into the kitchen, still talking. "Would you like a cup of tea or something?"

Harry followed her into the kitchen. "Why Berna all of a sudden? I was thinking we'd do something special tonight... like go out for dinner..." 

Hermione busied herself with the tea. "Berna? Oh, she's a nice girl. I'd regret losing our friendship with her... you _are _still friends with her, aren't you? Why don't we pass by her house sooner or later, have a little chat..." 

Harry leaned against the counter, watching Hermione's jerky, nervous movements as she poured the tea. "I don't think so." he said softly, his eyes glittering. Hermione stopped dead at the sound of his voice. "Harry... is something wrong? I'm sorry if I brought up Berna..."

He moved closer, and Hermione felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. His lips touched the spot right below her ear, and Hermione unknowingly gripped the teaspoon tighter and tighter.

"Harry..." she whispered. "Mmm..." he murmured against her neck. "Don't... stop." she closed her eyes and succumbed to bliss.


	13. Self Pity

AN: According to a certain reviewer, she had been waiting _months for an installment for __Fata. My god. That was enough to send me typing away like crazy. So here it is, the long-awaited (dare I say?) thirteenth chapter!_

Disclaimer: No, no, no and NO!

Dedicated to: fuschia. If it wasn't for her, I prolly never would have started up on _Fata again. Whee!_

Chapter Thirteen: Self-Pity

_Touch me, it's so easy to leave me_

_All I have is a memory_

_Of my days in the sun_

_- Cats_

            _"It's quiet now, isn't it?" _

            "Of course it is. The screaming hasn't started yet."

            _"Ah, yes. Will you be joining the screaming then, when it starts?"_

_            "It starts at sunset. And... no. Absolutely not."_

            _"Why not?__ Screaming could be good for you."_

_            "No, not exactly. In this dunghole of a place, screaming is required to be accompanied by convulsions and throwing of one's self around one's ... er, __quarters."_

_            "Why not? What's so wrong with that?"            _

_            "I don't have plans on ripping my clothing any further, you can see that it's already far too... __unaesthetic for comfort, or practicality... or style, for that matter."_

            Draco trailed off from the conversation, repeating a certain word. "Unaesthetic. Hermione used to say that often, if things got messy around our house."

            _"Hermione?__ Who is this Hermione?"_

_            Draco was silent. __Yes__... who was this Hermione? He stared down at his hands, trying to remember another pair of smaller, more delicate hands... that used to curve slowly around his, entwining her fingers with his..._

            "Hermione? The only woman I had ever loved."

~*~

            "You're the only woman I have ever loved."

            he whispered in her ear as pink as a coral shell as they lay shoulder to bare shoulder in his bed. Hermione breathed in shakily. 

            "And you're the only man I have ever loved, Harry."

~*~

            _"Is she a good woman? This Hermione?"_

_            "Oh yes. Good. Beautiful. Smart. Everything I wanted in a woman."_

            _"Is she loving? Does she care?"_

_            "Absolutely."_

            _"Are you married?"_

_            "Yes. On May 4, 2008. It was the happiest day of my life."_

            _"Hmm."___

_            "She's perfect. I love her."_

            _"One last question... is she loyal?"_

_            Draco fell silent. Hermione? Of course she was loyal. She loved him too, didn't she?_

            "Yes. She's loyal. She's as loyal as can be. She will love me until the end of time itself."

~*~

            "I will love you until the end of time itself, Harry."

            Harry smiled, cat-like and sweet and cloying as maple syrup. "I like the way it sounds. Maybe you could say it again?"

            Hermione looked at him. "I will love you until the end of time."

            "And again?"

            "I will love you until the end of time."

            Harry pulled her close, their faces only inches apart. Hermione closed her eyes as he kissed her. "Again?"

            "I will love you until the end of time itself."

~*~

            _"Will she wait for you?"_

_            "I thought that was your last question."_

            _"Will she wait for you?" _

_            "Enough questions for tonight. Listen, the screaming has begun."_

            _"Will she wait for you?"_

            "I... wait? Of course she will wait for me. She could wait forever."

            _"Yes. The screaming has begun."_

_            "I will join them now."_

            _"Yes. Why don't you?"_

~*~

            Hermione sat bolt upright in bed, cold sweat sticking the sheets to her skin. Beside her, Harry stirred slightly.

            "My god, woman, it's two in the morning. This had better be good." Harry growled. Hermione glanced at him, handsome in the moonlight pouring in through the window like liquid silver. A deep breath.

            She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the dreams, the sound of one man's long, lonely scream through the darkness in her head. Another shaky breath. _I'm__ fine. I'm perfectly fine._

            "Hermione?"

            She bent her head, the echo of the sweet nothings she had whispered to Harry that night ringing in her ears. One heartbeat, the touch of his hand on her shoulder... and she knew they were nothing but sweet lies.

            _"The only man I've ever loved..."_

_            "... until the end of time..."_

_            "... forever..."_

_            Hermione raised her head and looked at Harry. _

            "It was nothing, love. Let's go back to bed."

~*~

            _"Do you think of her?"_

_            "Every single day. She's what keeps me going."_

            _"Really?"___

_            "Yes. I know that one day, I'll be able to get myself out of this dunghole, change into clothes that are hopefully not so last-millenia, and see her again. That would be the best out of those three."_

            _"You miss her."_

_            "Like hell."_

            _"Does she miss you?"_

_            "Yes."_

            _"You sound so sure of yourself."_

_            "I am."_

            _"You are?"_

_            "Yes. I am. So sure."_

            _"That's a good thing."_

_            "Why?"_

            _"It will probably be the only thing that will get you out of here alive."_

            Silence, as Draco pondered on that. The screaming was starting up again, he could hear it getting louder and louder as the dementors drew closer and closer.

            _"A dementor's coming."_

_            "Not one. Two."           _

            _"Three."_

_            "Yes. Three."_

            And Draco closed his eyes as the cold swept over him like a wave of sickening fear.

~*~

            *_crash!*___

_            "What in bloody hell was that, woman?" Harry walked into the kitchen, and was greeted by the sight of Hermione standing pitifully over the porcelain teakettle, which was now lying in pieces on the floor. Harry glanced at the shattered jade-and-ivory masterpiece, and his eyes grew cold._

            "What happened?" he asked slowly. Hermione bent and started picking up the pieces with cold fingers. "It... it just slipped out of my hand." Harry frowned. "Things don't 'just slip out one's hand'..." he said coldly, and walked out of the kitchen.

            Hermione continued picking up the pieces. _Draco's__ favorite teakettle.__ She didn't say anything more about it to Harry. Nothing about the cold flash of fear that had gripped her. Nothing about the paralysis that swept through her body. Nothing about the dark, dark shape that looked strangely like a dementor..._


	14. Will I?

AN: Wow. I am overwhelmed, quite frankly, by the wonderful reactions to this little project of mine. Thanks people, I love you all!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I used a snippet of a poem by Robert Frost somewhere in here. You'll recognize it, I guarantee. And _Rent's in here too. Thanks to Jonathan Larson (?) for that._

Dedicated to: The Euphoric Banana, who told me that this story made her cry. Once she told me that, I got up, ran to the computer and finished this chapter. :)

Chapter 15: Will I?

_Will I lose my dignity?_

_Will someone care?_

_Will I wake tomorrow_

_from this nightmare?_

_- Rent_

Something appeared at the cell door, with just the slightest glimmerings of magic around its edges. 

Food. 

Draco walked over to the plate, head held high and back straight and proud. He glanced down at the dry bread and cheese, and sniffed aristocratically. "Tell me, don't you serve anything, at the very least, _resembling edibles in this dump?"_

_"No, not really. The People here don't usually eat."_

            He left the plate lying at the door and sat down under the barred window, head tipped back, eyes closed, his snow-white lashes touching his cheekbones gently. The dying light of day flooded through, illuminating Draco... or what was left of him. 

            He had grown gaunt and pale... nothing was left of that the beautiful, aristocratic, milky complexion he once had. He was now pallid, with dirty blond hair that hung in tangles up to his shoulders and a skin-and-bones body. There was almost nothing left of the straight, strong and proud Draco Malfoy... _almost nothing._

            Yet in the way he carried himself, in the way he glared out at the dementors who came to subject him to daily torture... there was a faint glimmer of hope. Something fainter than the farthest star, something you were almost never sure actually existed.

            But, as the dementors who stood outside his door observed, there were dark days. Days when he would fling himself against the stony wall, cutting himself on the jagged edges. Days when he would scream for help, pleading for unknown names to bring him out of his private hell. Days when he would sit in a corner and babble... whispering one word, over and over again... as if it would bring him salvation. 

"Granger."

He soon stopped throwing wrathful tantrums, and seemed to go quiet... but as everyone knows, _they all go quiet in the end._

***

            "Roses? Harry, you shouldn't have!" Hermione clapped her hands in delight. Harry watched her mirth with eyes that held a light unfamiliar. She took the bouquet he held out, cradling the blood-red roses in her arms. "Thank you, they're so pretty!" Then she looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "Wait a minute. Did I miss... anything?" 

            Harry laughed. "Yes, you did. It's our anniversary today." He pointed towards the calendar on the wall. Hermione glanced over at it. _May 4. "Oh." she swallowed. Smiled. "Oh, yes."_

            _May 4. The day Harry moved in. A year ago. The day she had married Draco. Four years ago._

_            Four years, broken in the middle. Four years, never to be whole again._

_            She laid the roses down on the mantelpiece. __Four years ago, he had surprised me with tickets to Venice. Hermione looked up at Harry, who was leaning coolly against the doorway, coat still on, hat in hand. __Now, someone completely different is surprising me with roses._

_            She forced a smile, for Harry's sake. "Happy anniversary, love! Why don't we go out for dinner tonight, to celebrate? Let's invite Ginny, why don't we? And Ron..." she moved towards the fireplace, two words repeating themselves over and over in her mind._

            _Completely different._

***

            He woke with a start, and the silver bars of moonlight on the cold stone floor of his cell reminded him of something he would have rather forgotten. 

            "Happy anniversary, love." he whispered, wanting nothing more than to hear her whisper back to him. Something. Anything. Everything.

            He crawled to the window; the window acknowledging his sanity, for only the most decent of prisoners had cells with windows. Those too far gone were afraid of daylight.

            Draco looked out of the bars to an Unplottable, empty vacuum, and the frigid moonlight that spilled over it all. There were no stars, and the night was cloudy and grey. "On a night like this..." he whispered, his voice cracked and hoarse.

            "On a night like this we would go out to dinner. Just the two of us." He pressed his palms, sore and scabbed, onto the stone wall. "She would want to invite..." he swallowed, as if saying the name was difficult... "_Potter, but I would say no, and in the end she would always agree."_

            It was the most that Draco had ever said since he had been put in Azkaban, but his voice was growing weaker as the moonlight faded away. 

            "It's our anniversary, just the two of us. Alone. Happy. In love."

            He slid down to the floor; eyes closed tight, having cried too many tears to summon any more. 

            "Hermione Granger. I love you."

***

            "Hermione Granger. I love you."

            She looked up from her ravioli, her smile stopped halfway to her lips. "What?" Harry reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I love you." he repeated, eyes bright.

            Ron, who was beside Hermione and was in the process of getting severely drunk, seemed to sober up. "Really now, Harry." Ginny's hand went to her hair and began nervously twirling a bright red lock. 

            Harry stood up, and speechlessly, Hermione followed him outside, where the skies were grey and the night frigid cold.

            He turned to her. "I love you." he told her for the third time that night. "Hermione nodded faintly. "Yes?" 

            _She could not bring herself to say that she loved him too._

            He frowned for a brief second, then his face smoothed again, looking like the Harry she had always known.

            Finally, he put his gloved hand in his pocket. Hermione's eyes followed it quickly, one eyebrow quirking up. Gloves? Harry never wore gloves.

            But all her doubts were quenched when he pulled out a box. 

            A sleek, jade green box. All too familiar in romantic movie scenes.

            He handed it to her, and she flipped it open, revealing the outrageously expensive diamond ring.

            "Will you marry me?" The words floated to her on a breath of night spring air. She looked up at him, the ring heavy in her hands and his words heavy in her heart.

            She looked down. Thought of her future, which now stood on two paths.

            _Two paths diverged in a yellow wood. And sorry I could not travel both..._

_            If she said no. Two years without the man she had married. A life without him, living in sin and pain and the burden of memoriam. A mediocre job in a mediocre department, mediocre pay, mediocre spendings. She would never marry again, she was sure of that. If not Draco, nobody else._

            _But what if she said yes? _

            A song from a Broadway musical ran through her mind, playing out every bittersweet note in the biting wind.

            _Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?_

_            She looked up at Harry, standing there, hands in pockets, beautiful eyes fixed on her. She looked down at the ring, weighed it in her hands and weighed the idea of a life ahead of her. A life with Harry Potter._

            She closed her eyes and took a step down that road.

            "Yes, Harry."

            He leaned closer to her. "What?" She opened her eyes and looked at him, holding out the ring. Her eyes were bright with tears. "Yes, I will marry you."

            He smiled. Took her hand. She watched their hands, detached, as if she was watching a movie and the screenshot was of the man's hands removing the woman's ring... _Draco's ring... and replacing it with his own._

            And she began to cry. In that movie theater, in the dark, in her heart. Harry told himself that they were tears of joy as he took her in his arms and kissed her.

            And the restaurant door burst open and people and noise and light spilled out onto the street. Ron headed the pack, now very drunk and his cheeks as red as his hair. He held up his champagne glass, loudly proclaiming a toast to the marriage of Harry Potter to Hermione Granger.

            The people cheered, though Harry didn't know them, they most certainly knew him.

            And all Hermione could think as Harry held her close and people congratulated her and she nodded back, was that Ron had said her name wrong.

            "_It's not Hermione Granger. It's Hermione Granger Malfoy."_

            She heard Harry whisper something in her ear as he waved jauntily to the crowd. "How does Hermione Potter sound?"

            She smiled. "Very good."

***

            Draco sat on his wooden bunk, the splinters digging into his thighs. 

            A faint trickle of water could be heard somewhere in the dark of Azkaban. Silence reigned, if not for the whimpers of the people left behind with their minds. He closed his eyes and began to sing, a hoarse whisper with the faintest traces of melody woven into its words.

            "_Without you, the stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly..."_

            His voice cracked, faded to a silence louder than the shrillest scream. 

            And the night wind outside his window, carrying with it the laughter of some anniversary party far away, finished the song for the poor man.

            _The earth turns, the sun burns..._

_            ... but I die, without you._


	15. Suspicion

AN: Still writing. Really, really love the reviews. And the reviewers too!

Disclaimer: Yes, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. If you didn't know that, you shouldn't be reading this. And the opening song was written and performed by Sum 41. Yay!

Dedicated to: **GooseFeathers, who had written for me the _best character dissection of Fata that I have ever read (go you!), and to _****The Carina, my chronic email buddy, and close friend. She's also been leaving reviews at every one of my literary antics here on ff.net, and well, I appreciated that. You rock. :)**

Chapter 16: Suspicion

_It's not in what you do, but in what you say..._

_- Song by Sum 41_

            She sat at her desk, claw-like hands steepled in front of her. There was a soft knock at her door, and without inquiring who it was, she nodded. The door swung open, and two women walked in.

            The woman at the desk looked at them over her jeweled glasses, and gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk. "Have a seat."

            They did.

            Rita Skeeter smiled predatorily at her two guests, leaned back, and Summoned a bright green quill from the corner of the room. She licked it, never taking her eyes of the younger one's tear-stained face, to the older one's cold grey eyes. 

            "Now, how may I help you?"

            The quill hovered over the parchment, ready to mangle every single word spoken in that room.

            However, the older woman reached out a beautiful hand, and laid it on the quill. "I don't think you'll be needing that, Skeeter." Rita looked mortally insulted.

            The woman smiled, flipped her long, ice-blond hair back. "The story I have to tell is far, far greater that anything a substandard Quick Quotes Quill can ever dream up..." Her pale pink lips curved in a smile.

            Rita sat back up, one eyebrow quirked high. "Okay," she said thoughtfully, taking out an ordinary quill and setting it to parchment. "Start talking."

            The younger woman raised her beautiful blue eyes, dulled with tears, and took a breath. "It all started when he told me he loved me..."

***

            Hermione looked up at the sound of the door opening. In walked Harry, and Hermione knew that he was in another one of his moods. _Maybe now's not the time to discuss the wedding. she thought wisely. Instead, she asked about his day as she walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek._

            He nodded to her questions, mentioned that Moody wanted to arrange a meeting in the next few days, and sat down in front of the fire, brooding. Hermione looked outside at the clear, spring night, wondering what to do now. 

            Finally, she walked over to the fire, and Harry took no notice of her. Putting her hand in the jar beside the fire, she pulled out some green powder, which she threw onto the fire.

            "Alastor Moody!" she called, the heat from the fire warming her more than she would have liked. "Hermione Granger here."

            A few minutes, and Moody's head appeared in the fire, his normal eye looking up at her, and his magical eye staring somewhere beyond the fire.

            "Good evening, Ms. Granger." he sounded brisk. "You too, Potter." Harry nodded, eyes blank. Hermione turned back to Moody. "You wanted to talk to me, Alastor?" Moody looked thoughtfully at her.

            "Yes, I did. I would like you to return to your Auror duties."

            Hermione was silent. 

            Moody sounded business-like as he continued. "It's been four years since your marriage to - ah - Mr. Malfoy..."

            Hermione heard a silent scream inside her rip through her heart. _Don't call him that! It reminds him too much of his bastard father..._

_            Moody's voice seemed to be coming from far away. "four years since your marriage... and two years since the incarceration. I strongly suggest that you start over with your life, Hermione."_

            He fixed both eyes on her, magical and normal. "Yes, start over. Your life is too impressive to waste on lazing around the house and doing nothing more tedious than mending Potter's socks. You deserve honor, and to achieve that honor, you should work for it."

            Moody looked over at Harry, who had sunk deep into the armchair and was glaring blankly at the bricks above the fireplace.

            "Besides, Potter might want you beside him. He's doing quite well, Hermione. I've noticed his extreme skill in the Counteracting Dark spells field, and I've transferred him there. I'm sure it will lighten the load on his back. He's been a great help, and I'm sure you will be too. Come back, Hermione."

            Hermione sat back onto the carpet, murmuring a vague 'I'll think about it.', and a vaguer farewell as Moody faded from the fire.

            Silence filled the room once more, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire and Harry's breathing. Finally, Hermione spoke.

            "You never told me you were transferred. All this time I thought you were still in paperwork."

            Harry looked down at the back of her tousled head. "What? Oh, well. You always did underestimate my abilities." His voice sounded cold.

            Hermione replied, in a shaking voice: "You kept that tiny secret from me for a year." She turned to face him, and he could see tears glinting in her eyes. "How many more secrets are you keeping from me, Harry? How many more? For how long?"

            Harry glared at her as she stood in front of him, and he sat up in the armchair. "I have no secrets, Hermione! Don't you dare accuse me of things I don't do."

            She felt the tears overflow. "You never told me that you were transferred to the Dark field... so why have you been coming home late every night?! I would understand if you were still in paperwork, because I know that Moody keeps his paperwork apprentices after dark... but the Dark field?" her voice cracked. "Dark Aurors are dismissed at noon, Harry, and called back for missions... missions that come once a month."

            She held out her hands to him, imploringly, beseechingly. "So, please... tell me... why have you been coming home so late all these years?"

            Harry looked up at her. "That," he drawled coldly. "is none of your business, woman." 

            Hermione felt her temper snap. "Yes it is! It damn well is, Harry Potter! If you're coming home past ten every night, when I know very well you're dismissed at noon, it is too my fucking business!" she yelled, angrily rubbing the tears away from her face with an impatient hand.

            Harry stood up from the chair, slowly, dangerously. "Don't answer me back, woman." he whispered, and the there was a chill in the room. Hermione backed away slowly, staring at him apprehensively. "Harry..."

            He seized her wrist and walked closer to her, bending it backwards. She winced, eyes closed, her tears spilling onto her modest white blouse. "Harry... please, you're hurting me." 

            Something flickered, and the chill was gone, replaced by the crackling of the fire and Hermione's sobs. 

            Harry let of her hand, looking stunned. Hermione touched her skin carefully, looked up at him with blurry eyes. He looked back at her, eyes suddenly sadder than ever. "Hermione," he breathed. "I'm sorry. I'm so-"

            He tried to hold her, but she twisted away from him and with a last glare over her shoulder, she ran up the stairs.

            He dropped back to the armchair, Summoned a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, and stayed there, until the stars had faded and the fire had died.

***

            She wrote as the girl talked, faster and faster, pausing only to dip her quill in the bright red inkwell on her gaudy green desk. 

            Finally, the girl stopped, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists in her lap and her head bent, her soft brown hair hiding her face and her tears from the rest of the world. The woman at the desk, however, took no notice of her misery.

            "This," Rita Skeeter declared delightfully, holding up the scroll, "has to be the most sensational story ever written in this section of magical history!" Narcissa Malfoy looked at her, from where she was standing, which was by the window.

            "Yes, it is, isn't it? And the best part is," she glided over to the desk, one hand clutching her silky shawl around her. "It's all true. None of those falsehoods and drivel that you normally write." Her voice was cold. "I am just making it perfectly clear, Miss Skeeter, that I did not appreciate that article you wrote on my husband's..." 

            Her voice failed. "... disappearance."

            Rita stared at her incredulously. "Disappearance?! Madam Malfoy, the man has been missing for years now! Are you still in denial that your _beloved husband is now dead and rotting somewhere in the corners of our world?"_

            Narcissa drew back as if she had been struck. Her face paled to the point of skeletal white. Berna looked up from where she was sitting, hastily brushing her tears away in shock.

            Rita, however, having recorded the story and having tucked it away safely in her desk, was relishing her verbal torment. "And your _son! How pitiful, to be thrown into Azkaban for crimes his father committed and left to him in place of the legendary Malfoy fortune. What happened to the money your son was supposed to inherit, Madam Malfoy?" Rita sneered. "You're living off it, I presume, comfortably? So, your son, instead of receiving what was rightfully his, instead of the vaults of Galleons and Sickles, received instead sweet, comfortable lodging in the strongest wizard prison on this planet?"_

            "I'm sure he's having fun there, Madam. It's _free, isn't it, to have your own son thrown into prison?"_

            Rita sat down, a cold smirk on her face. She had obviously been waiting years to say this to Narcissa's face.

            Narcissa's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she glared down at Rita with a venom fearful to behold. 

            "My husband..." she hissed, "is still alive. And he will return, stronger than ever, and we, hand in hand, will personally see to your painful disposal, Skeeter."

            One thin hand curled possessively around the black amulet at her throat. 

            "And as for my son? I don't have one!"

            Rita nodded nonchalantly, eyes focused on the article Berna had dictated out to her. "Mmhm. No son, right. So do I just cross your name off this article?" 

            With that, Narcissa seemed close to cursing Rita's nose off her face, if Berna hadn't stood up and with a hushed whisper to Narcissa, ran out the door. Narcissa stared after her, then whispering one last word to Skeeter, she walked out after the girl.

            Skeeter looked down at the article. "Very well, Madam Malfoy. Very well."

            Narcissa's last words echoed around the garishly decorated room that was Rita Skeeter's office.

            _Lie for me. Lie for me well._


	16. Before the Earthquake

AN: And this, my dear readers, is the prologue to the climax of the story so far. In this, several hints are hinted at, and feints are hidden within feints within feints. Things will happen, and things won't. Look for them, like Russian dolls. Enjoy, and feedback would be lovely.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

And this: _His mother's beauty cracked, and she screamed at him, crazy-scary, utterly certain of her righteousness. was stolen from Neil Gaiman's __Neverwhere. Sorry 'bout that._

Dedicated to: Carina and Isa, Catherine and Berna, and all those who reviewed. You are my motivation. 

Chapter 17: Pre-shocks.

_Ignorance is bliss._

_- proverb_

            It was a surprise. Or more like a shock, really. A dull shock, like electricity. People think electricity would be painful, they imagine it as a sharp, tingly feeling all throughout, like the feeling you get when your foot falls asleep.

            No, people are wrong. Electricity, if the voltage is high enough, will slam into you like you slam into a wall, and it will, yes it will, throw you back several feet. And you will stagger to your feet, bruised, bleeding, dazed and confused. And hurt. I guarantee. You will be hurt.

            And if the voltage was really high? Oh, let's just put it this way, you won't even be able to stagger to your feet in the first place.

            That's electricity. That's the kind of shock we're talking about here. That's the kind of shock Draco went through.

***

            It began with a series of smaller shocks, building up to that one big bolt from the blue. _Like aftershocks. But before the earthquake itself. he would later muse. __Pre-shocks. And he would smile, dryly._

            Of course, Draco would not know that those surprises were just pre-shocks. There was no way he could have known. 

            Until the earthquake came and swept him off his feet. Until the earthquake came and knocked down the world around him, reducing everything he ever believed in into worthless rubble. Until the earthquake came and broke him.

            Maybe he should have listened to the pre-shocks. The surprises, that although unpleasant, could have saved him. After all, isn't ignorance bliss?

            Unpleasant surprises, bearing gifts. Wasn't life beautiful?

***

            "What a pleasant surprise." he drawled. "And I suppose you're bearing gifts?" 

            Draco Malfoy stood in the clinically white room, bound by chains and spells and charms, and his own pride. In front of him, behind a Shield, stood Narcissa Malfoy. She had aged, her eyes duller, her hair thinner. Her clothes were elegant and obviously rich, with the requisite grey badge that declare her a 'visitor to Azkaban Penitentiary Quarters'. A newspaper was tucked under a thin arm, and she held her wand tightly in her other hand. 

            Draco felt the first shock slam into him. _Three hundred volts of electricity. he thought dully. __Here's Mummy Dearest. _

            She looked at him, her gaze sweeping him from his tousled, matted hair to his bruised and bleeding bare feet. "You look a mess, Draco Malfoy." she said primly, meeting his gaze. Eyes as blue and as searing as lightning met eyes as grey as and as cold as metal. Draco smirked at her, behind the sizzling sparkle of the protective Shield Charm. "You don't look like _Daily Prophet cover material yourself, Mother."_

            Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Respect your elders, Draco. Didn't I teach you that?" Draco laughed. "No, you never really took time off to teach me anything, _Mother." She looked at her son, battered and bruised, his lips set in a thin line, his eyes burning fierce beneath the tangled hair and dirt on his face. _

            _He still fights._

A sudden change of topic. "Speaking of the _Daily Prophet." she held up the folded newspaper. "Maybe you would want to take a little peek at this." Draco squinted at it. It seemed to be last week's edition, Rita Skeeter's version. _

            She tucked it back under her arm. "I'll give it to the guards later, to check for charms and wands, and they'll give it to you. I shouldn't worry about assassination attempts in this newspaper, if I were you, _son." she smiled at the wary look on Draco's thin face. _

            "There's nothing harmful in this newspaper than... current events." she laughed at her own little joke. Draco took a deep breath. His first visitor since he was detained seemed to more than a little bit off her rocker.  

            _His first visitor. It was the first shock. __Of all the people, why Berna? Why now? What now?_

_            He looked at her as she stopped laughing, his gaze calm and steady, but inner turmoil leaking out through the edge. __Hermione should have been my first visitor. Like I was her first love. And she was mine._

_            "What do you want, Mother?"_

            _And she was mine. _

            She looked back at him, her head tilted sideways. She was still ice-queen beautiful, with traces of prettiness in the line of her eyes and the fading smile on her lips. "I want a lot of things." she told him, sincerely, sweetly.

            "A lot of things." she blinked, smiled, held up the newspaper, the headline too far away for Draco to read.

            "But in the meantime, I merely want to... _keep you informed." Narcissa Malfoy smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing Draco had ever seen. It was then, that he knew, that whatever was in that newspaper directly concerned him, and the people he loved._

            "Not Hermione." he whispered. _And she was mine._

_            She shrugged. "Maybe Hermione." _

            His fists clenched, involuntarily, and he could feel the binding magic prickling at him, nibbling at his skin. But something else was disturbing him, creeping in underneath his façade. It was dread. 

            You would think a prisoner in Azkaban would become used to it, that cold sickening feeling that sinks into your stomach at the approach of _something you would rather not face, __something you would rather not know. _

            _And she was mine. _

            Draco clenched his teeth. "Out with it, Mum. Tell me now what you want me to know." On the other side of the charms, she glared at him. "You know, I have never forgiven you for marrying that Mudblood bitch." 

            _And she was mine._

_            "And I, Mother, have never forgiven you for throwing me into Azkaban."_

            She smirked at him, and Draco found it unnerving, his own smirk, directed back at him from his own mother. "You deserve it. You deserve every inch of this, Draco. From the dementors to the unholy dirt, to the mental torture..."

            "All because you did not heed my word."

            Narcissa's voice had dropped to a venomous hiss. "It would have been so much easier if you had followed me. If you had married that Parkinson girl like your father and I wanted you to. Life would have been so much easier for you, Draco, if your Mudblood wasn't in it."

            Draco felt the restraining magic tightening its grip on him, sensed the charms that held his arms fast strengthening. "Yes, Mother." he whispered through gritted teeth. "My life would have been so much easier if I hadn't married Hermione. So much easier... but then, my life would also have been incomplete."

            Blue eyes flashed. "No, you're wrong. You could have done so well without that wench by your side, son. You could still have your fortune, your home, and your _honor... if only you didn't marry her. If you didn't love her."_

            The charms buzzed and flashed as Draco pulled against them. "You can't stifle love. Love isn't something you muffle and tie down and throw away. Don't you know that?"

            A wicked smile, flashes of the old Draco, spread over his pale face. "Ah, but then you wouldn't know that, would you? You've never loved. Your marriage to Lucius was fixed, and so was mine with Pansy." His tone was cold and bitter. "At least I had the sense to pull away from family obligations... obligations and rules that wouldn't do anything to me but seal my misery for the rest of my pathetic life."

            His mother's beauty cracked, and she screamed at him, crazy-scary, utterly certain of her righteousness. "You're wrong! Your marriage to Parkinson would have assured you of lifelong comforts and riches, but no, you had to defy my rules and my expectations and go off the Malfoy path to wed yourself, to _give yourself to some disgusting wretch with an impure bloodline! __You dare insult your own parents' marriage?"_

            Draco's eyes narrowed, and a smile as sharp as a knife blade played on his bitten lips. "Still in mourning, then, Mother?" He _tsked softly, his voice hiding venom. "You really should learn how to let go of the past, Mother... why waste your life on someone who doesn't love you back? Someone cold and dead and long-rotten under the outrageously expensive marble monuments you've put up in his name?"_

            "A name you will not be carrying on." she spat at him, her eyes steely blue slits in her pallid face. Draco smirked at her, the charms constricting him. "Unfortunately." he drawled, the sarcasm as loud and as clear as a church bell.

            A breath.

            Silence.

            Narcissa touched her hair self-consciously. She straightened up, brushed off her dress, put a cold smile across her face. "That is enough." she declared frostily. "Enough. I will not stand any more of your insolence. I have had enough of it to last me a lifetime."

            She held up the newspaper. "This will arrive to you later tonight. See to it that you read every single part of it. After all," a smile on her pale lips. "it would not do for a _Malfoy to be behind on current events." One more sweeping glance at Draco's tattered prison garb. "No matter how __detained they are."_

            Draco stared at her. _Two can play at that game. "Oh no, Mother. It would not do for me to miss out on the wonderful goings-on of the world... goings-on that I, due to my current situation, am unable to partake in."_

            Narcissa laughed, then. Cold, cruel and chilling. "Partake in? Oh, my son. These events are events that you certainly play no part in, nor would you want to, for they do not concern you... and that, is the saddest part."

            She smiled at him, at her son in chains and charms. "I bid you adieu. And mind you, those clothes look _awfully uncomfortable. I'll see if I can send some over with your newspaper. It wouldn't do for a mother to neglect her son."_

            Draco glared at her, watched her as she walked out of the room and consorted with the dull-looking prison manager. Her ice-queen beauty was back again, the frigid cold sweeping the air. 

            _Or maybe it's just the spring wind. Draco thought dully, watching as she handed the prison manager the newspaper. _

            Narcissa smiled at him one more time before he was led out of the room, at that smile chilled him to the marrow of his very bones.

***

            It was when he had returned to his cell, and when he had recovered from the sickening chill of the dementors that had escorted him there, when he began to cry.

            Draco Malfoy, for the first time in four years, leaned against the cold, dank wall of his prison cell, tipped his head back, and began to cry in ugly, racking sobs. 

            The tears were sticky as they ran down his grubby cheeks, and he made no move to wipe them away as the sobs tore themselves out of his chest. The dementors outside his door stood still, seemingly deaf, and if they heard anything of Draco's pathetic tears, they made no sign.

            He kept on crying, well into the night, because of the pre-shock, and when the real earthquake hit, he had no more tears left to cry.

-----------

Next chapter: The climax of the entire story. Stick around. :)


	17. Earthquake

AN: And here it is, arguably the turning point of this entire story. Enjoy, because you won't be getting any more for a while. *wicked laughter*

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Dedicated to: Carina and Isa... you guys rock. Also to Katana47, Goosefeathers, and all my faithful reviewers. You're the stuff of motivation. I love you all. :)

Chapter 18: Earthquake

_And__ I could hear this rumbling, like a hungry beast, _

_and__ the ground was shivering and shaking, and so was I. _

_Everything was falling apart around me. _

_I was screaming, but I didn't know it. It seemed like the end of the world. _

_- survivor's account of the San Francisco Quake_

__

He could hear them outside his door, the rustling of cloaks and that low murmuring sound they made. But worse, he could _feel them there. It hit him, that cold, clenching wave of sickening __fear. Coupled with the dread of his mother's news, it was almost too much for Draco. _

The newspaper was coming. And with it, news that would surely hurt him. _Why else would Mother come all this way just to pass it on to me? Draco thought bitterly, his fingernails raking his clammy skin. _

The dementors were coming. And he didn't know what he feared more, them, or the news they brought.

_As long as it isn't about Hermione. he prayed to gods he never knew. __Hogwarts could be burnt down, Potter could be dead, Father could be raised again...for all I care... as long as Hermione's safe and sound, I'll sleep easy._

The dementors entered his cell and he barely had time to scream before he drowned.

***

They tumbled into bed, his arms locked around her waist and her lips on his. It was flurry of bedclothes as they kicked off their shoes and undid belts and buckles. Hermione sat up, her hair falling out of its bun in a tangle of chestnut curls. She was gasping, she was breathless.

Harry lay on the bed, watching her lazily, a smile like the edge of a knife dancing on his lips. Hermione closed her eyes. "Our first night. Our honeymoon." she murmured to herself, devoid of emotion.

But Harry heard it, and he laughed. There was the bitterest trace of cynical poison in that laugh, and Hermione shuddered. _Harry, her dear, sweet friend... what happened to you? _

"Our first night? Hermione, after all we've been through... you're thinking of this as _our first night? Don't make me laugh. Your gown wasn't even white." _

Hermione sucked in her breath. "Please." she whispered, her eyes shut tight. "Let me pretend." 

_Let me pretend you're Draco. Let me pretend he's still here. Let me pretend he still loves me._

__

_Harry smiled again. "Anything you want, love." He took her by the hand and Hemrione let herself fall._

_Let me pretend its Draco holding me. Let me pretend it's his lips on mine. Let me pretend it's his hand twining through my hair, his hand pulling me close, his hand covering my eyes. _

__

_Let me pretend._

***

When Draco finally opened his eyes, it was dark, the sun having extinguished itself long ago. He staggered to his feet, eyes blinking blearily. _Dear God, this hurt. He held himself with his bony arms, trying to fill himself with the kind of warmth that Hermione had given him._

_Long ago.__ It all seems so long ago. So far away. _

He caught sight of the crumpled newspaper sitting near the door, and the fear returned, like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach.

_Where did it all go?_

__

He reached for it.

***

Molly Weasley. 

She was crying. Ginny held her hand, patting it confusedly. Ron watched worriedly. "What's wrong with Mum?" he asked cautiously. Ginny shrugged, her blue eyes looking concerned. "I don't know. She's been like this since this afternoon. I know she always cries at weddings..."

Mrs. Weasley took a breath. "No, no, it's not that. Thank you... but it's not that."

She looked away, out the window at the cold stars. She could still see that expression on Harry's face, and that concealing smile on Hermione's... _something was terribly wrong. _

And she couldn't figure it out. And they were getting hurt. And Molly just couldn't take that.

Ron shrugged. 

***

Moody glanced at the newspaper headline as he sipped at his coffee. 

"Ah. I thought so." he murmured gruffly, as the shadows lengthened outside and the night began to fall. 

"It was inevitable. The best of luck to the two of them."

***

Rita Skeeter sat back and watched the amounts roll in.

Apparently, all over the country, wizards and witches were buying copies of her newspaper by the stack. She smiled a toothy, hungry smile as the numbers on her counter sped by, clicking loudly in the small room.

"Don't forget, Skeeter. Thirty percent of that is mine." 

Rita whirled around at the sound of the cold voice. Narcissa stood in the corner of the room, the elegant black cape shrouding her in shadows.

Rita nodded. "Yes, yes. I know." She turned her sharp eyes back to the counter. At this rate, she could comfortably give away more than half this money and still live on Easy Street for the rest of her middle age. 

And Narcissa had earned it, yes she had. By confirming what everyone in the entire wizarding world had suspected and by giving the story to only one newspaper, Narcissa had broken records all over the world.

Rita's eye fell upon Berna, standing beside Narcissa and looking less than half as elegant. _Something wrong with that girl over there.__ Rita thought, noting the pallor on Berna's skin and the way her blue eyes seemed to be duller than they were before. _

Narcissa smiled, a smile like the edge of a newly-sharpened blade. And she said, to nobody in particular: "I can't wait for him to find out. The only drawback is that I won't be able to hear him scream."

***

His mouth went dry as he finally registered the headline. Draco grabbed the paper and began to read, hungrily incredulous. All other thoughts flew from his mind, and he forgot everything. He could feel it building up inside him, like a fist tightening around his heart.

It was choking him, blurring his vision as he read the story over and over, unable to believe it. Unable to take it in. Unable to breathe.

It welled up in him, a lump in his throat, a scream in his lungs, tears in his eyes. 

The newspaper fell from his limp hands as the prisoner staggered against the wall, one hand on his heart... a heart that had loved one woman so fiercely... a heart that had withstood years of prison and mental torment with the one thought of that woman... a heart that had finally given way.

"It can't be true." he whispered. "It can't... no... please." He searched for reason behind reality, something to explain this breaking of his heart... anything.

"No, it's Skeeter... she lies, she always does." he thought frantically, reaching for fourth-year memories in Hogwarts. He scrabbled for the paper, his eyes focusing on a tiny sentence that said too much.

"As told by Berna Guerrero."

And he remembered Berna. And he knew she wouldn't lie about something like this. Not the way she had loved Potter.

He could feel it. It was coming.

And he didn't scream.

He laid the paper down, and sat down. His lips were pale, bitten and chapped, as they formed one word: _Hermione and the saddest prisoner of Azkaban closed his eyes to the world... finally submitting to cold, hunger and fatigue... but most of all, utter heartbreak._

***

The Leaky Cauldron was alive with intense gossip and laughter as witches and wizards milled around with drinks in their hands and stories to tell.

"Have you heard?"

"Of course, who hasn't?"

"The Finnegan boy down there... he was invited!"

"I heard they were classmates, same batch at Hogwarts."

Babble filled every corner of the small pub. Everyone had turned out to discuss the sensational news.

"Oh, he finally settled down."

"The poor boy..."

Outside, a cold wind began to blow, as it smelled of tears and spring rain. Rose petals danced along it, like drops of blood let fly to the wind. It whispered as it danced along the street, a whispering that cut up the conversations in the pub, like the shards of a broken mirror... each telling it's own story and each displaying it's own glittering reflection.

"...she married before?"

"... ended up in Azkaban..."

"... damn Malfoys... really happy..."

"... was covered up..."

"She applied for..."

"... terrible..."

"... divorce?!"

"... without his knowing..."

"So sad."

The wind knocking at the door seemed to hear that last sentence, and it carried it out, repeating itself to anyone who would listen.

_So sad.__ So sad. So sad. _

__

_And he heard it, in his cell far, far away as he curled up on the floor and listened to the breaking of his heart._

_So sad.___

__

_His tears were bitter but few. _

_So sad.___

__

_"How could she?"_

_So sad.___

__

A discarded newspaper floats lazily down the dim street on the same breath of wind. 

As it flutters to the cobblestones, the headline that had broken so many records, broken so many hopeful hearts... and broken one lonely man sitting forlornly in Azkaban... could be seen by the sparse, cold light of the lanterns.

**Harry Potter Finally Married**

****

_The dashingly handsome Boy-Who-Lived is now a man, finally marrying his Hogwarts sweetheart, Hermione Granger, who after a divorce from her estranged husband who is detained in Azkaban prison, is happily living with Harry Potter in her residence..._

__

***

He opened his eyes, eyes the color of a storm at sea and whispered as the frigid winds blew through his cell, through his bones, and through his soul. 

"It's Hermione Malfoy."

_No, it's not anymore._

_"A divorce?"_

_Yes, a divorce.__ She left you, Draco._

_"... happily living with Harry Potter?"_

The voices inside his head had no answer for him, so he lay on the stone and listened to the sighing of the wind outside.

_So sad.___


End file.
